


Snippets

by AmbrosiaRush



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 101,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaRush/pseuds/AmbrosiaRush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connected one-shot styled moments in the lives of the agents who work at the Office of Special Projects. (Sixth in a series, the rest are on FF.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boys Will Be Boys

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to the lovely JET1967 for proofreading this story.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: 0800 HRS: NCIS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Deeks entered the bullpen exactly on time and was counting his blessings. The traffic on his route had been absolute insanity... then again the extended surf session hadn't helped his cause. He could hardly be blamed for that, though. The swells had been incredible and sometimes you have to take the time to appreciate the little things in life.

"Deeks," Callen greeted from his desk with a slight incline of his head. He was wearing his hair a little longer than usual. Deeks figured it was an attempt to hide the long scar along the side of his head from a car accident earlier in the year.

"Morning, Callen." Deeks looked to his partner's desk, and then to Sam's, neither agent anywhere in sight. "Where's Kensi... and Sam?"

"Got drafted into helping Hetty move some... rug or something." Callen gave a little shrug of his shoulders as he tapped his pen, no longer focusing on his paperwork.

"And how did you get out of that one?" Deeks asked as he tossed his go-bag down beside his desk. "Pulled rank?"

Callen chuckled. "Nah, I didn't have to do anything. Hetty gave me her signature stare-down and pointed at my overflowing inbox. She's given me til oh-nine hundred to finish."

Deeks shifted his gaze from Callen to the man's inbox and then back again. Deeks snorted, a grin taking over his face. "Good luck with that."

"Gee, thanks," Callen responded sarcastically.

Deeks stepped over to Kensi's desk and opened the box of donuts that was sitting there. While he was debating sprinkles versus icing, Special Agent Ryan Cooper walked in.

"Morning, guys," Cooper said before leaning his hip against Callen's desk as he drank from his coffee mug. He did a casual look around before glancing over at Callen. "Renko, Nassir and Faraday are in, you?"

Callen nodded. "As long as I don't get a case that holds me over."

Cooper tipped his head in the direction of Sam's desk. "Sam?"

"He's helping Kensi move a rug or something," Callen responded. "And he's got a dinner with his in-laws tonight, so he's out."

Deeks raised an eyebrow, curious about the conversation between the other two agents. "Out?" He asked with a mouthful of vanilla-sprinkled donut.

A slightly mischievous smile came upon Cooper's face. The tall man turned to Callen and then back to Deeks. "Fresh meat?"

Callen leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I do like easy money."

Cooper walked over and threw an arm over Deeks's shoulders. "You're in."

"In what?" Deeks asked, perplexed.

"We start at six."

"We usually start at eight," Callen commented while filling in part of his report.

"Yeah, well, Renko can't have it at his place... or I guess what I mean is Noah won't go there and if Noah won't go somewhere you know it's bad," Cooper shook his head. "I'm holding it, and my kid goes to bed at eight, so we start at six. That okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Callen agreed, closing one folder and grabbing another.

Cooper quickly scrawled out the address on a Post-It and stuck it to Deeks's forehead. "Don't be late and bring lots of change."

Deeks's eyes followed Cooper. "What the hell?"

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: 1100 HRS: TACO TRUCK**

"You don't have to hold it, Ryan," Faraday said as he leaned against the Taco Truck waiting for his lunch. They'd been working since five in the morning, and his stomach was rumbling in protest. "I know you try to keep the work and the family thing completely separate; I get it."

Cooper shrugged his broad shoulders. "I think after the past few weeks I'm realizing I can't keep the two exclusive." He nodded to the guy in the truck and picked up the two bags, passing one to his partner. "My job already puts them at risk. Having you guys over isn't going to change a thing." Cooper had considered moving from his house that had been broken into when his job ended up on a crash course with his personal life. His mother had been injured; his daughter had been taken. Both were fine now. Emma still loved the house she'd grown up in, and it was ultimately her love of home that made him stay put.

The two agents had to get back to the office, so they started to walk back to the car, Faraday having to walk a little faster to keep up with Cooper's long strides.

"Besides," Cooper said, returning to the conversation with a grin. "Your neighbourhood sucks. I'm always afraid when I park my car there that I'm going to come back and it's going to be stripped down to the frame."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Faraday responded with a roll of his eyes.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: 1723 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"Where are you headed in such a hurry?" Nell asked with a raised eyebrow from her position on the couch, a sci-fi novel in her hands.

"Poker night," he responded, fishing his keys out of the bowl by the door. He shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.

"Ah," Nell had been privy to the fact that the guys got together every couple of weeks, when their schedules permitted, to play a few hands of low-stakes poker. "Where is it being held?"

"Cooper's." He slipped on his running shoes that he hadn't bothered to undo the laces on.

Nell gave a small nod. She knew Ryan Cooper from the office; especially since the sexual tension between Cooper and the Technical Operator Kimi was big Ops Centre gossip. "Feeling lucky?"

"Not particularly," Callen responded, pulling his jacket from the closet. "Faraday's coming; he nearly always cleans house, but we're bringing Deeks in. Might be able to get some money out of him."

She shook her head, a little smile on her face. "Have fun."

"I will." He closed the space between them, bent down and kissed her. He had meant for it to be quick but his lips lingered on hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too. When should I expect you home?"

"Around eight thirty. If I think I'll be later, I'll call."

Nell followed him to the door and watched him get into his car before she shut the door and locked it behind him.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: 1802 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

"So, are you going to tell me now?" Deeks asked as he stepped out of Callen's black Jaguar. He noticed that Renko's car had been parked down the street.

Deeks had stopped at his place to collect a Mason jar filled with dimes and quarters, Callen had picked him up from there, figuring they could car-pool. The change in Callen's Ziploc bag jingled along with his in the jar as they walked down a cobblestone pathway that led up to the well-kept little white house with blue shutters. The porch was one step up, had a couple of chairs and a table. The knocker was horseshoe in shape, and Callen hit it a few times. Deeks let out an agitated sigh. He hated being left in the dark.

The door opened. Cooper was in grey sweat-pants and a white t-shirt with a blue tea-towel thrown over his shoulder. "Hey, guys, come on in."

There was a girlish shriek that was followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. A little girl in a pink princess costume dashed into the living room, stopped and looked back to the hallway where she'd come from. There were growling noises coming from the hallway. Then Renko jumped out with his arms up, and the little girl took off running again. She grabbed Deeks's leg and whirled around him, peeking out from behind his leg.

Big brown eyes stared up at Deeks. "Help me, Sir Knight! Help me!"

Cooper looked to Deeks. "This is my daughter, Emma. Em, please say hello to Marty and Callen."

"Hi, Marty," Emma said rather distractedly. "Hi, Callen."

Renko took a few steps forward, stomping his feet as he did so. The little girl squealed and pulled on the hem of Deeks's striped sweater. "Slay the dragon!"

"I don't know," Deeks said with a grin, playing along. "It's a pretty big dragon."

Renko swooped her up. She let out a delighted giggle. "Hi, Mike."

"Hello, Princess Emma."

She hugged him tightly. "You're a pretty good dragon."

The special agent gave the girl a grin before setting her back down on her feet and adjusting her tiara.

"Daddy," Emma looked up at her father. "Can I have ice cream?"

"Did you eat all of your dinner?"

"Yup." Cooper stared down at his daughter and she shifted, the little pink play dress swayed. "No."

"Then no, you can't have ice cream," Cooper responded, leading the guys into the kitchen where he picked up the last plate and used the tea-towel to dry it. "You know the rules, Shortcake."

"But I like ice cream. Asparagus is icky."

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2: 1859 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

Emma was still in her princess costume and was sitting on her father's lap. Cooper was down to a few dimes that his daughter kept throwing in on her whims rather than according to the rules of the game.

Nassir hadn't won any money, but he hadn't lost any either.

Faraday was sitting with piles of quarters and dimes.

Renko folded his cards again, something he'd been doing all night. "I'm out."

Callen raised the stakes with a few more dimes. Nassir folded, Faraday matched. Emma looked to her father who folded his cards. "More?" Emma asked.

"No, no more. We're out, Shortcake."

"Bummer."

Callen won the hand, and Faraday shook his head. "This is bul..." He looked at Emma and then to the stern look Cooper was giving him. "Baloney."

Deeks returned from a quick bathroom break and picked up his beer as Renko started to shuffle the cards. "So, is this like a weekly thing?" Deeks asked.

"Nah," Renko replied. "It's whenever a considerable amount of us actually have an afternoon off."

"Eric in on this?"

"No way," Callen said, shaking his head. "You don't play cards with Eric. He used to be a professional blackjack player."

"Get out! Really?" Deeks replied, shocked.

Callen nodded. "He's banned in Vegas."


	2. Sisters

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 0630 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Nell was having a good morning. Her fiancé had already been up for an hour and had brewed a pot of her favourite tea before going out for his morning jog. She was having a Skype session with her sister, Chloe. Chloe was beaming on screen. She was bleary-eyed, wearing a shirt that appeared to be her husband's. Her hand was rubbing lovingly over her very pregnant belly.

"So, what do you have left?" Chloe asked. They had been discussing the plans Nell had made for her wedding.

"The rings."

Chloe nodded. "You two should take a day off together to pick them out. Do it soon to give you time to get them sized!"

"Still need to find a DJ."

"You need to get on that," Chloe said sternly. "You can't just leave these preparations to the last minute. This is your wedding day, Nell!"

Nell chewed on the inside of her cheek. "And the dress," she said. She was excited and nervous all at the same time.

Chloe's smile grew. "We fly out in three days!"

Chloe, along with her husband Christian, would be flying out to Los Angeles. It was kind of a family thing since her parents Susan and Alan were coming as well. Her brother Steven also insisted that he help in some way and was flying in from Canada. His flight would be landing a little while after the flight from Illinois landed.

"I'm so excited," Chloe said. "Do you have shoes? Accessories?"

Nell shook her head. "Are you sure about this, Chloe? You're eight months along..."

"I'm fine!" Chloe insisted. "There is no way that I'm missing my sister's wedding dress shopping! You were there for mine. You helped me so much, Nell! Besides, as your matron of honour, I feel like I haven't done a damn thing."

The door shut rather loudly and Nell looked over to see Callen. His shirt was sweaty and she smiled at him. "Have a good run?"

Callen was still panting. He nodded, gave a little wave and continued down the hall toward the shower.

"Damn, that man is fine."

"Chloe!"


	3. Accusations

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 0700 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Eric swiveled in his chair as the doors opened. "Good morning, Nell."

"Good morning, Eric."

The two worked in a companionable silence for a little while, both making their way through recent reports and reading into their latest case. Finding a starting point, both Eric and Nell turned to their computers and got to work on finding leads before the agents came in for the day.

Eric paused in his work and looked over at his partner. "Hey, Nell, can I... can I ask you something?"

She stared a moment. Eric seemed uncharacteristically nervous to ask her a question, and it was oddly out of place. They spent nearly every day working side by side; they were best friends and hung out after work when their busy lives permitted it. His nerves were unfounded, and she tilted her head slightly and gave a playful smirk, hoping that it would ease his nerves. "You mean ask me something else, because that's already a question?"

He shot her a dry look, and she full out smiled but it quickly faltered when he didn't smile back. She sensed a seriousness that made her worried. She rolled her chair away from her computer and turned it to fully look at him. "Sure, what is it?"

"Well... that's the thing. I'm not really sure," Eric turned his chair to face his partner as he pushed his glasses a little further up the bridge of his nose. "Bethany has been acting really... strange."

"What do you mean?"

"She's been really distracted lately. She just seems... like she's hiding something. And not like a good something where you can tell the person is kind of excited but trying not to show it." Eric ran his hand over his messy hair. "Do you think...?" Eric let out a sigh. He felt bad for even thinking it, much less saying it out loud... but what if she was? "Do you think maybe she's cheating on me?"

Hazel eyes widened in shock. "Cheating?" Nell whispered, fearfully. Honestly, she didn't know Bethany all that well. She wanted to say no, to tell Eric that he didn't have any grounds for his fears, but she couldn't. He loved Bethany, this Nell knew. She wanted desperately for there to be any other explanation.

"There are times in her day planner and some initials."

"You went into her day planner?" Eric didn't seem the type to invade people's privacy... well... at least when they weren't bad guys, and this was his girlfriend.

"I had to do something," Eric sounded a little desperate. "It seemed like what the guys would do..."

Nell rubbed her temples. "Look, why don't you just ask Bethany what has her distracted?" Sometimes things started out tiny and when you tried to take the long way, they'd become a huge tangled mess. That was why Nell preferred the direct route whenever possible.

Eric shifted uncomfortably. It was the most logical and straightforward way to go about it, but, honestly, he was a little afraid of the answer. He gave a little shrug.

Nell patted his hand in a comforting manner, her hazel eyes meeting his sea green ones. "Talk to her, Eric."

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1855 HRS: BEALE RESIDENCE**

"Bethany?" Eric called out when he entered the apartment they shared that had once been just his. He liked the place; it was easily big enough for two people, but the person he'd been living with for a while now seemed like a stranger to him. She seemed so distant; so quiet... so not herself. He didn't get a response so he kicked off his sandals and walked in barefoot. He put his tablet bag on his office desk, taking the tablet out and plugging it in to charge.

He looked at the coffee table. Bethany's puppy-covered day planner was just sitting there. He couldn't help it; he walked over and flipped it to the third. Sure enough, initials and apparently she had a six o'clock meeting with whoever it was.

It hurt. His heart seemed to be beating too fast. His head was aching.

A few minutes later the door opened. Eric was on his feet and across the room. He turned and looked at Bethany in a nice pair of trousers and a pretty light pink blouse. "Where were you?" The words were out, and they were fuming mad.

Bethany turned and stared at him. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, her eyes avoiding his. "I was out," she finally responded, hanging up her bright orange purse.

"Out where?"

"Eric..."

"Who's JS?"

"What?"

"Who were you meeting?" he said, with his hands moving in frustrated gestures. "It's in your planner."

Bethany's eyes narrowed. "Just what are you accusing me of, Eric?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything; I'm asking where you were! I didn't realize that it was such a difficult question to answer! Where were you?"

Her eyes welled up with tears and she bit her bottom lip. "Oh, Eric..."

"Are you cheating on me?"

"What!" She sounded surprised and angry. "How dare you!"

"Then what-"

"It's my doctor! I went to see my doctor last week... and to get the results this week."

Eric felt like an ass. Her doctor. She had gone to see the doctor, and it had her worried. Now, it had him worried. What if it was some kind of serious illness or disease? "What did he say? Are you okay?" He wanted to reach out, he wanted to hold her, but after his accusations he wasn't sure she would let him.

She nodded just a little and looked over shyly at him. "Eric... there is something though... that I need to tell you."

"Look, I'm sorry..." Eric stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders lightly. "I shouldn't-"

"Eric, please, it's okay."

"You let me get off with things too easily, Beth." He wondered sometimes if her eagerness to forgive came from the emotional abuse from her ex-husband.

She stepped into his arms and for a while he just held her.

"Eric... I'm pregnant."

Eric would swear later that time had stopped.

"Please," Bethany whispered into his chest, her tone a little desperate. "Say something."

"Pregnant?"

"Yeah. It's yours," she said through clenched teeth, obviously still hurting from the accusations about her faithfulness.

He leaned back, and his hands went to either side of her face, tilting it up carefully so he could see her face. Her eyes were worried, sad and tearful, and that wasn't the way it should be. Not with this kind of news.

He never gave much thought to what kind of father he'd be. Hell, he hadn't given much thought about if he even wanted kids... but here was this woman that he loved, and together they'd created a new life. It was impossible not to be excited. His heart seemed to swell with pride, with joy, over this tiny new being growing inside of Bethany.

He wished he could rewind the past few days, but he knew such kinds of wishing were fruitless.

"We're having a baby?"

She nodded, one hand going defensively to her stomach.

He smiled. "I'm so sorry, Beth. I should have trusted you. I shouldn't have-"

She smiled. "It's okay," she cut him off. "I should have told you back when I suspected... it's just..." she tapped her one foot into the hardwood in an apprehensive gesture. "I didn't think I could have kids. I saw all the signs of being pregnant but... David and I tried for years... he always told me it was my fault... I didn't think... I didn't think it would ever happen."

He brushed back some of her hair and then placed a hand over her flat stomach which would soon blossom with new life. "Guess he shot blanks."

She snorted. "Yeah. Guess you don't."

He laughed and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Beth."

She sighed and melted into his arms. "I love you, Eric."

He stepped back and crouched down, and she laughed as he ran his hand over her stomach. "And I love you, too, whoever you will be."


	4. Five Pt1

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 0630 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

Ryan Cooper woke up seconds before the bed dipped just slightly. Then, the bouncing began. "Daddy!" Emma shouted as she jumped. "Daddy! Get up!" She kept jumping on the bed. "It's my birthday! It's time to get up! Let's have breakfast! Let's go to the park!"

Ryan Cooper turned to the digital clock at his bedside and groaned, pulling a second pillow over his face. "Five more minutes."

Emma giggled and basically dropped onto his gut, causing the air to leave his lungs. "Up, Daddy!" She pulled the pillow away and tossed it on the floor. "Come on, come on!"

"Do you have your Mema up yet?"

Emma nodded enthusiastically. She tumbled to the side and then sat on her legs, staring at her father with her big brown eyes. "Mema's making pancakes with those butterscotch chips!" Emma rubbed her belly. "She told me to wake you up."

"Did she now?" Cooper groaned and sat up. His daughter reached out to touch his bare chest, the bullet scars that were slightly lighter than the rest of his skin. She frowned. "Come on, monkey." He grabbed her under one arm, and she laughed as he carried her. He grabbed a shirt and set her down in the hallway so he could put it on.

"About time you got up," Margaret said, pointing at her youngest son. "Emma's been up since five-thirty."

"Good morning to you, too, Mom," he kissed her cheek and went to steal a piece of pancake, getting smacked with the back of the spatula. "Go set the table."

Emma giggled, and he ruffled her already-messy dark curls. She did nothing to try and fix it.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 0800 HRS: PLAYSIDE PARK**

Cooper unpacked the BMW while Emma ran off with her grandmother to play. He had gotten everything out of the trunk and shut it when his brother's van pulled in.

The side door was open before the ignition was even off. "Uncle Ry!" Natalie, the youngest of his eldest brother's girls, jumped out of the van and ran into his leg. She beamed up at him. She'd inherited the dark Cooper curls and waves, but her mother Penelope did a much better job at taming them than Ryan did with his own daughter's hair.

"Hey, Nat," he said, picking her up and giving her a good hug. "You've gotten so big. How old are you now?"

"Six and a half," she replied proudly. "Where is Em?"

He pointed over to the big red slide and set her down; she took off running.

"Hello, Allison," he greeted his other niece and received a hug from the quieter of the siblings.

"Hi, Uncle Ryan," she replied shyly and hugged her stuffed bear tighter. She took after Penelope, looked like a little clone. Soft blonde curls, big blue eyes, tiny nose. She looked over her shoulder to her parents, who were unpacking the van. "Can I go play?"

"Of course," Penelope responded, and the girl looked around and started to walk toward the sandbox.

The two Cooper brothers stood across from each other for a second. It was easy to see they were brothers—the same dark wavy hair-though Colton kept his trimmed much shorter, the same dark brown eyes, similar facial structure-though Ryan's was more sharply defined and Colton's lips were wider. "You look like hell," the eldest Cooper brother, Colton, declared.

"Still look better than you," Cooper shot back with a smile.

"Still a smart ass, I see."

"Still a dumb ass, I see."

"Boys," Penelope shot the brothers a look, but knew they were only teasing each other. It was much like this every time they got together.

"Penny," Cooper greeted. One arm over her shoulders he planted a kiss on her cheek. "Still as gorgeous as ever," his sister-in-law smiled and blushed. "So, what are you doing with this guy?" He asked, pointing a thumb over at Colton.

"Piss off, Ry," Colton said, bouncing an inflatable beach ball off his brother's head.

"Anyone else coming?" Penelope asked as she took out a picnic basket. "I'm not sure I packed enough."

"You packed enough for a small army," Colton argued, pushing back some of his dark hair that was peppered with a few greys that hadn't been there the last time the brothers had seen each other. Colton might keep his hair cut shorter than his brother, but it didn't help much in taming it.

"Just one more," Cooper responded, taking the basket from Penelope and grabbing the bags that were near his car as well.

"I'm not an invalid," Penelope shot him a look but it was playful, and she enjoyed his chivalrous nature.

"I'm a gentleman." He looked over at his brother, who happened to stand the same height as him. "Unlike my brother here," he dug, earning a punch to the arm. "Apparently, Mom got it right with the last of us."

"Are you done?" Colton asked, carrying the majority of the things from the van as they walked across the sandbox towards a nice grassy spot with a bit of shade from a large oak tree.

"Probably not," Ryan responded with a grin.

"So, who is this one more?" Penelope asked as they started to set up in the grass while Margaret watched over her grandchildren and looked to be having the time of her life doing it.

"Kimi."

"One of Emma's friends?" Penelope asked and then caught the look on her brother-in-law's face. "Or one of yours?" She smiled. "It is one of yours, isn't it?"

"This serious?" Colton asked.

"Jesus, I asked her to my kid's birthday party, okay?" Cooper responded a tad defensively as he set down his armful of supplies. "Emma likes her."

"Mommy," Natalie came over and whispered something in her mother's ear and then did a little wiggle in place; it was a wiggle parents knew. She had to use the washroom.

Penelope got up and took her daughter's hand. "Come on, this way."

Colton watched the two until they were out of hearing range and then picked right back up on their conversation. "You introduced this woman to your daughter. From you, that's serious."

Cooper said nothing as he re-organized things, mostly to keep himself busy.

"So..." Colton prodded, curiously. "How long have you known Kimi?"

"Few years. We work together."

"She's a cop?"

"No, um... an IT. She runs the computers."

Colton nodded. "Been a long time since you've been with anyone."

Cooper shrugged, not really wanting to have this conversation with his brother, but seeing no way out of it.

"No one serious since..." Colton paused a moment. "No one since Celeste."

Cooper pushed back his dark curls. His heart still ached at the mere mention of the wife he'd lost, but no longer did it feel as though the despair would pull him under. He had lost Celeste, but she had given him years of happiness, of love. She'd given him Emma. "No," he agreed. There had been a few blips, distractions to get by, but after a while they didn't help and only made him feel guilty. It wasn't until Kimi that he was actually interested, that he thought about a real relationship again.

"I know you love Celeste," Colton said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "But it's okay to move on. You know that, right? Celeste wouldn't want you to be alone."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I know."

"Kimi must really be something."

"She is." Cooper smiled and pointed at the woman on the bicycle who had just ridden into the park.

"That her?"

"Yeah," Cooper said, standing and leaving his brother.

Colton watched as his brother jogged across the sandbox to greet Kimi. He had to admit that she wasn't anything like Celeste, at least not outwardly. Celeste was professional; she had a sense of humour but was sweet, quiet, almost timid. He'd loved his sister-in-law mostly because of how happy she made his brother.

Now he studied this new woman in his brother's life, a woman he'd waited a long time for. She was small, shorter than Celeste had been and looked so tiny next to Ryan. She was wearing a pair of dark blue tights with white polka-dots, brown shorts decorated with glinting gold buttons, and a sea green tank-top underneath a sheer white collared shirt. She took off her backpack and opened it, pointing at something inside. Ryan smiled and said something. Kimi laughed at whatever it was and zipped the bag back up. He took it from her, and she tried to get it back but he just held it over her head, which earned him a glare and a stuck-out tongue.

Colton tried to get a read on this new woman in his brother's life; first impressions said she might be a little young, but she was playful, and Ryan had lit right up when his eyes set on her.

"Kimi! You came!" Emma shouted excitedly, abandoning the teeter-totter and dropping her cousin Allison hard to the ground.

Margaret tended to Allison, who was more stunned than hurt, while Emma ran towards Ryan and Kimi, completely unaware of what she'd done.

"She okay?" Cooper called.

"Yeah," Margaret responded. "She's just a little shaken."

"Hi, Kimi," Emma said excitedly, taking her hand. The two looked like they shared the same sense of fashion. Emma was in white tights with blue polka dots. Her running shoes lit up and had Velcro. Her shorts were dark blue, and her t-shirt was green. "Come on, come on," she dragged Kimi over to the teeter-totter. "This is my Mema."

"Hi, Margaret." Kimi remembered the woman from the hospital when Cooper had been shot.

"Nice to see you under better circumstances." Margaret extended her hand and Kimi shook it, her silver bangles jingling. "My son's been talking about you coming today, excited."

"Ma!" Cooper narrowed his dark eyes at his mother, and she put her hands up in defense. He was saved by his daughter tugging on Kimi's hand again.

"This is my cousin Allison."

Allison shied away and hid a little behind Margaret. Kimi crouched down so she would be at the girl's eye level. "Hi, Allison. I'm Kimi. I'm a friend of your uncle's."

The girl poked her head out, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. She waved.

"Come on." Emma pulled enthusiastically once more, dragging Kimi across the sandbox to where the brothers had set up the blanket and picnic baskets. "Uncle Colt! This is Kimi."

Colton stood. Kimi had to look up at him; she was used to looking up to people. She smiled. "Nice to meet you, Colton."

A woman who looked much like an older Allison and a girl who looked much like the Cooper brothers joined them. "You must be Penelope," Kimi guessed, from what she knew.

"I am, and that must make you Kimi. It's nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"I'm Natalie," Natalie introduced herself, enthusiastic and out-going, much like Emma.

"Nice to meet you," Kimi responded with a smile. "Want to play on the jungle gym?"

"Yeah!"

"Let's go!" Kimi shot Cooper a grin and poked him in the arm. "Last one to the fireman's pole is a rotten egg." She took off running, and he dropped her bag, taking right off after her.

Penelope smiled and looked over at her husband as she watched the kids trail after Kimi and Ryan. "I like her," she decided.

Colton reserved his stamp of approval, nervous about anyone getting close to his little brother. He'd already been through so much... lost so much. Kimi let out a squeal as Ryan grabbed her around the waist, planting his feet so she was just out of reach of the fireman's pole. Her laughter rang out as she squirmed in his arms. His brother looked truly happy, even from across the play area. Colton smiled.


	5. Five Pt2

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1100 HRS: PLAYSIDE PARK**

Cooper went down the slide with Emma, and she planted her feet at the bottom. "Dad," she said, standing up. "I'm hungry!"

He checked the bulky black watch on his wrist. "Well, it's about time for lunch anyways."

It took a few minutes worth of potty-breaks and water canteens being filled at the fountains before everyone sat down on the blanket.

Penelope had a ton of sandwiches made up with assorted kinds of deli meat. There was mustard, ketchup and mayo in the tiny cooler so everyone could fix the sandwich up the way they wanted.

Emma looked in the basket. "What's this?" She held it up.

"Bologna," Cooper told his daughter, reading the writing on the wrapper.

"I don't want bologna." She put it back and picked out another. "What's this?"

"Turkey."

"Perfect."

Once Emma was out of the way, Natalie was an even bigger pain in the butt, going through every kind of sandwich available twice before settling on the first one she'd grabbed. Allison went next. Once the kids were fed the adults were quick to top their own.

The park was quiet. A few joggers went through, but other than that it was all theirs.

Emma popped open a bag of Cheese-O's, and Cooper knew he'd be having a hell of a time getting the orange dust out of her clothing later. All the girls got in on the Cheese-O action. He heard Penelope's sigh and figured she was having the same line of thoughts as he was.

The girls chatted up a storm about the ballet classes they were all taking, Emma had just been enrolled. One occasionally threw a Cheese-O at another but they were all giggling.

Cooper was vigilant; it was in his job description so he took note of the two vehicles that pulled in. He leaned back a bit to see around his brother.

"What is it?" Colton asked.

"I'll be damned," Cooper responded, looking over to the lot. He recognized the vehicles. The first was his partner's beaten up truck. Despite its outward appearance, the truck was in tip-top condition, likely because of Sierra, one of the NCIS:OSP mechanics. The second vehicle was one of Angela's, a grey Lexus, and both she and Renko stepped out of it.

"Be right back." He left his family and walked across the park, praying that it wasn't some case that had come up. "Hey," he greeted, jogging over. "New case?" he asked apprehensively.

"Nope," Faraday responded, pulling out a cooler from the back of the truck while Mike, who had driven, popped the trunk on Angela's car.

Cooper smiled and shook his head. "You're seriously crashing my five year old's birthday party."

"It's our day off," Faraday responded with a little shrug of his shoulders. "And there was a gun fight on the first floor of my building last night; place is a mess of cops."

"And Angela won't stop baking," Renko said. "Although baking is safer than her still trying to paint her place... but I'm going to end up diabetic if I keep trying to eat it all."

"Gimme a hand here," Angela demanded as she pulled out the first container and shoved it into Renko's arms.

Upon closer inspection, Cooper noticed that Angela was actually wearing makeup, obviously trying to hide the marks still visible from her vicious fight with her former partner. Even so, there was no gussying her up—no eye shadow, no mascara, no lip gloss or blush. Just enough to hide the slowly-fading bruises. She was also favouring one side and careful with her ribs. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she muttered, pointing into the trunk. "First day off the pain meds, you know." He did. She pointed inside the trunk. "Grab that, will you?"

"What is it?"

"Cupcakes."

"No," Renko said. "I have the cupcakes. That's... maybe the tarts... maybe the cookies."

"We put the cookies and tarts in one container."

"Then that's it."

"Just how much have you been baking?"

"How long have I been on medical leave?" Angela huffed in an agitated manner. "I'm no good at sitting around. Renko keeps checking in, making me stop painting."

"Your ribs aren't healed," Renko argued back. "If you'd use some common sense-"

"Don't start," she warned angrily, and the two partners were toe to toe, ready to face off once more.

"Cut it out." Faraday stepped into the middle. "Emma's birthday remember. Play nice."

Renko and Faraday walked a little bit ahead, and Cooper fell into stride next to Angela. "You need to take better care of yourself, Ange." He adjusted his grip on the container of treats. "If you need help paintin-"

"I don't," she responded snippily. He blamed it on riding in a car with Renko and being stuck in the house for a few days on mandatory medical leave. She'd fought Hetty on the call, wanted to at least be in the office, but Hetty had refused and put her on two weeks of leave for rest and recuperation. She had to pass both a physical and a psychological exam as well as re-qualify in firearms before she could return to active duty. Cooper, having the medical knowledge he did, knew simply by the change in her gait, the way she held her ribs, the way she actually wore makeup to cover the bruises, that she wasn't ready to return, that she had yet to heal enough.

He also knew Angela didn't like being told she couldn't do something. It was causing her to butt heads with her partner even more than usual, as well as with anyone else who dared to try and tell her to sit down and take it easy, or even so much as offer to help.

"Accepting help doesn't make you weak," he told her.

She was quiet for a second, taking careful steps as their feet sunk slightly in the sand as they walked. "It's mine," she said finally.

He didn't get it, but she didn't elaborate. He figured if he asked she'd just call him an idiot for simply not reading her mind and understanding. Angela was like that at times.

"Mike!" Emma said, running over. Cooper smiled as Mike bent down to give Emma a hug. His daughter was fond of Mike since he'd rescued her when she'd been kidnapped by Angela's former partner. She turned and looked up at Angela, whom it seemed she was less sure of. She gave a little wave. Angela gave a wave back.

Cooper quickly introduced the team to the rest of his family, and Emma took to helpfully plucking out sandwiches and passing them out to Renko, Faraday and Angela.

"No-ah," Emma pronounced the name as two distinct syllables.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you in a suit? Suits are for weddings and funerals."

Faraday slowly turned to look at his partner, who laughed. Faraday smiled and shook his head before turning back to Emma. "I like suits."

Emma considered the answer for a moment. "I like dresses."

"Me, too," Natalie agreed quickly. "But I've never got to wear a suit. Dad, can I wear a suit?"

"Suits are for boys," Allison told her sister in a serious and haughty manner before their father could get a word in.

"Nu-huh," Emma argued. "I saw a lady in a suit once."

"I saw a guy with a beard in a dress," Natalie said, laughing. "It was so silly!" She turned to Penelope. "Do you remember, Mommy?"

"Unfortunately," Penelope muttered and shuddered.

Emma was done eating Cheese-O's and had a dusty orange print on her shirt. "Daddy, can I go play now?"

"Sure..." Emma was on her feet before he continued," I'll just eat these wonderful treats Angela brought all by myself."

"Treats?" Emma sat right back down.

"Yeah, cupcakes, tarts... cookies."

"Cookies?"

"Yep."

Emma looked over at Angela. "Thanks."

Angela looked down at the blanket. "You're welcome," she said softly.

Renko's shoulder bumped lightly against hers, and he turned slightly to whisper in her ear. "You okay?" He knew his partner fairly well, the tone indicated guilt and that he understood. He knew she still blamed herself for Griffin, her former partner, kidnapping Emma. Also, he'd never seen her interact with children for any real length of time. She typically avoided them and the emotional turmoil they threw her into.

She nodded but said nothing and, with her long copper hair up in its typical bun, he could see the muscle in her jaw jump.

Everyone got into the treats, and Kimi practically moaned over a bite of red velvet cupcake. "These are delicious, Ange! You have to get me the recipe. Why don't you open your own bake shop?"

"I hate baking," Angela replied.

"Aren't you going to have one?"

"No. I had one this morning."

"So?"

Angela gave a tiny shrug. "Not a big fan of sweets."

Kimi stared. "What is wrong with you?"

"Yum," Emma decided after eating half of her cookie. "The chocolate is still melty." The evidence of that was on her chin.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1340 HRS: PLAYSIDE PARK**

Colton and Penelope had cleaned up their little place and packed everything into the van. The group had all played around in the park, with the exception of Angela, who was still on the injured list, and Faraday, who kept her company.

The kids, though, were beginning to tire out. The family said goodbye; the friends said the nice-to-meet-yous; and they called it a day.

Emma was rubbing her eye with one hand and waving to her aunt, uncle and cousins as they drove off. "Mema?" She looked up at Margaret. "I'm tired."

"I think it's time for a nap." She ruffled the girl's hair affectionately.

The two returned to where Faraday, Cooper and Renko were talking. "Where's Kimi?" Emma asked. "Did she go?"

"No, she and Angela walked to the bathrooms together," Cooper responded. It was a woman thing; he didn't understand it. "Do you have to go?"

"Nope." She was wiggling a bit in place.

"Emma?"

"Maybe a little."

"I'll take her," Margaret said, taking the girl's hand and leading her towards the public washrooms.

"How is Ange?" Cooper asked, looking over at Renko.

"Seems to be in pain. She should have been out of pills today, but there is still half a bottle, so I know she quit them a while ago." Neither of the guys questioned why Renko was in Angela's medicine cabinet. They both knew Renko had stayed at her apartment when he'd been between places after his house had burned down, and again when Angela had been injured. "She keeps trying to do the things the doctor told her specifically not to." Renko was obviously agitated, his hands shoved in his pockets, an angry set to his features. "She's not supposed to be carrying things, but she'll haul up paint from the first floor, or laundry baskets, or groceries. I told her I'd take care of it but I get there and she's got the basket of laundry done, folded on the counter, room smelling of fresh paint, putting away bags of groceries." Renko shook his head. "She's going to end up on extended medical if she keeps it up."

"I told her I'd help paint," Cooper said

The comment got a sharp laugh from Renko. "Yeah, bet that went over well."

"She said 'it's mine.'"

Renko shrugged not understanding it any more than Cooper had. "I'm not Nate."

"It's her place," Faraday offered. "She wants to do it. Too independent for her own good."

"Well, let's shut up about it because she's coming back," Renko said.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1346 HRS: PLAYSIDE PARK**

Kimi and Angela walked out of the bathroom as Emma and Margaret walked in.

"I'm surprised you guys came," Kimi said, brushing a strand of grass from her shorts. "Friday off and you came here?"

"Life is to be celebrated," Angela responded. " _And_ my baking got a little out of control."

"Stressed? My sister bakes when she's stressed, but she's not nearly as good at is as you."

"Bored," Angela responded. "Renko keeps hiding my paint brushes."

"You shouldn't be painting."

"No, I'm supposed to be sitting around doing nothing all day. I have no idea how to do that. I'm losing my mind. I have to do something." Angela sighed. "And then... after the entire... you know I just... I feel... guilty. Emma's been through a lot, indirectly because of me."

"Ange-"

"It's true," Angela cut her off sharply. "What happened to Emma... it was Griffin's way to get to me. It shouldn't have happened. Least I can do is give her cupcakes on her birthday."

Kimi shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and looked ahead to where the guys were standing around in a circle.

"So, how was your little play-date with Cooper?"

"Excuse me?" Kimi smiled and raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

Angela laughed. "Come on. No one is so blind that they can't see what's happening between you and Coop."

"I just came to celebrate Emma's birthday."

"And meet his brother."

"Where are you going with this?" Kimi asked.

"I'm not going anywhere with this," Angela responded. "It isn't any of my business...I'm simply speculating like everyone else."

"Like who else?"

"All of the Ops centre for one. They're a gossipy bunch," Angela responded. "I overheard one of the ladies in wardrobe being a right bitch, hoping nothing happened since apparently Cooper is the hottest thing since freshly boiled tea- her words, not mine."

"People are talking about us?"

"Don't worry, it's not just about you two. I know the administrative end has a bet on when Kensi and Deeks get together. Everyone was gossiping about the last Callen-Jones fight, and, when I was still on duty, I walked into the women's change rooms to hear a couple of the female agents speculating on how long it would be before either Renko or I transferred or killed one another." Angela shook her head. "People on the outside don't always get it right."

"You wouldn't kill him," Kimi said, trying to keep things light.

"Well," Angela drawled out. "I haven't yet."

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1500 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

Emma was enamoured with the baby doll that her father had gotten her for her birthday. She'd opened it shortly after Renko, Faraday and Angela had left the park. Coordinating with the gift, Kimi had gotten her a pack of clothing and accessories for the doll. The second Emma had gotten through the door she was attacking the packaging.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Cooper went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. "I like her," Margaret said, walking into the kitchen. "Kimi. She's a nice girl."

"Yeah, she is," Cooper responded with a smile.

"You know what you're doing, boy? You still have to put that kid of yours first."

"Always do," Cooper responded a little snappily as he waited on the coffee. His mother had a way of getting under his skin. She knew that he put Emma first, always had, and making him say it felt redundant, and more, it made him feel like she thought he was an inadequate father.

"Daddy." Emma walked in with the now-naked doll under one arm and the dress in her other hand. "Help?"

He sat down on the floor, and she sat on his leg and watched as he dressed the baby doll for her. Margaret snapped a picture of them and smiled at the image display on her camera.


	6. For Your Amusement

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1830 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

Kensi jerked awake, having fallen asleep on the passenger's side of her partner's Camry. She looked around and sat up straight. "Where the heck..?" She blinked a few times and took in her surroundings. Very slowly she turned to glare at her partner. "Really, Deeks?"

"After our day, we could use some fun," he responded, pulling up to the toll booth and handing over the money, taking a parking pass and continuing on their way.

"It should be closing soon."

"We have like four hours! Don't worry, Princess. I'll have you home before your carriage turns into a pumpkin."

Seeing as they were already there, and she didn't have her own vehicle, she didn't really have any say in the matter.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1850 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

They got into the park; the lights were on but not yet necessary; the aroma of quick and greasy food greeted them. One of the park employees motioned them together. "Would you like a picture?"

"No," Kensi said.

"Yes," Deeks spoke over her and smiled as he put an arm over her shoulders. She sighed but smiled and posed so she wouldn't end up looking horrible in the picture—a picture she figured her partner was sure to buy no matter what. The man gave them a stub with the photo number. They could check it out at the booth.

Deeks stuck the paper in his pocket and unfolded the park map. "Where would you like to start, or do you want to get something to eat first?"

"Rides first."

"Nervous you'll hurl?"

Kensi snorted. "More worried that you will."

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1902 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

They stood in the line for The Spinning Teacups. Generic child-friendly music played from the speakers hidden in the shrubs that lined the queue.

Kensi leaned against the metal railing and folded her arms over her chest. All she'd wanted at the end of a hard day at work was to have some take-out and a beer and to sit down on her worn-too-perfection couch and watch some mind numbing sitcom re-runs to lull her to sleep. She didn't want to be waiting for something to spin her around and around. She didn't want to have to pretend not to be listening to the group of women, who appeared to be in their early twenties, pointing, giggling and talking about how hot her partner is. It was annoying.

The gate opened, and people started to go through. "Green, yellow or blue?" Deeks asked.

Kensi rolled her eyes and took the first unoccupied one, a vibrant yellow. Deeks sat down beside her, his leg was warm against hers, and she shifted slightly away from him. They each picked up half the seat belt and clicked it together. Kensi leaned against the side, resting her elbow on the teacup and her head in her hand, looking up at the trees that shaded the tilted platform.

The ride started, and she took her hand down to hold on properly. Not that she was scared or had problems spinning, she didn't, but so she could try to not slide into her partner. It didn't help. From the direction of the spin, she was stuck to her partner's side the entire time. He was laughing, taking great joy from the ride, and she couldn't help it, as determined as she had been to remain grumpy, she smiled.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1912 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

Deeks wobbled a bit as they walked away from The Spinning Teacups. "Those young ladies still watching me?" he asked discreetly.

Kensi did a little turn on her heel and pretended to look around at the ride signs but spotted the young women from the line giggling to one another. She continued the turn and fell into stride with her partner. "Yep."

His arm was around her shoulders in a second. "I really just wanted an excuse to do that."

Her arm went around his waist, fingers clenching in the material of the green, grey and blue plaid button-up. She smirked and looked over her shoulder, shooting the group of women a triumphantly superior look.

"Did you enjoy the teacups, and don't lie, I know you totally did."

"They were alright," she conceded.

Sensing that it was the best he was going to get at the moment, Deeks nodded. "Did you ever do stuff like this with your dad?" he asked, curiously.

"Oh, yeah, we would come early in the morning and make our way around the park, go on every roller coaster there was, or at least the ones I was tall enough for... I was short in my pre-teen years. How about you?" She asked and then bit her tongue and her shoulders bunched. She turned to him. "Sorry."

He shook his head, feeling the immediate regret in her shoulders. "It's fine. No, my father never took me places like this."

"Did your mom?" she asked quietly, nervous that she was stepping over a line. He didn't really speak about his mother, and she knew very little about her.

Deeks shook his head. "My home was too broken to think about places like this. Growing up, I thought that the beach was the greatest place on Earth. Safe. Only place growing up that I can remember being genuinely happy. First time I went to an amusement park I was eighteen."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Ray had just gotten out of his first prison stint, and Jackson had been working at this amusement park over the summer to save up for school. He got an employee discount on tickets..." Deeks grinned. "Jax is a bitch on roller coasters."

Kensi laughed. "How's Delaney?"

"Fearful. Won't go on them." Deeks pointed at a roller coaster with two loops. "So, Kensi Marie Blye... you up for that?"

"It's on like Donkey Kong."

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1943 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

The line for the roller coaster had been long, but so worth it. They were both laughing, exhilarated by the ride.

It was nice for both of them to get to have some fun outside of the work place. Their jobs kept them busy, kept them stressed. It was nice to go out, be spontaneous, have a little fun with one another, especially since they were trying harder at their relationship—the one outside of work. That was a difficult thing, to be partners at work and to be romantically linked. It was impossible to turn off one side or the other, and it put a strain on both sides of their relationship.

His arm was around her shoulders as he led her to the corn dog stand. They both got one and ate it quickly, famished from the day and walking around the park.

"What do you want to go on now?"

"The Pirate Ship is nearby," Kensi replied before she took a long pull from the soda they were splitting. She passed the drink over to him. "It's a classic."

Deeks finished off the drink and tossed the container in a nearby bin. His hand brushed against hers; she turned her hand and their fingers interlocked. She looked over at him to find him smiling.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 1958 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

Kensi stood in line for the Pirate Ship, her back against Deeks's front, his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. She could smell his cologne; his skin was warm; and one of his fingers traced lazy circles over her shirt.

It was comfortable, warm, and relaxing—just being there in his arms. She covered her mouth as she yawned.

"Last ride," Deeks said softly. "You look exhausted."

"What does that mean?" Kensi turned, her dark eyes narrowing.

"That you're absolutely gorgeous but your eyes keep shutting, and you're actually leaning on me. If you were wide awake, you'd be way too stubborn to use me as a crutch."

She would have argued, but he was right. She was tired; it had been a long day.

They got on the ride a few minutes later, buckled in, and waited for the employees to check all the belts. Then the pirate ship started to swing. Some children giggled, some teenagers were screaming, some others were laughing. Everyone put their arms up as the ship swung high. They looked at each other and laughed.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 3: 2013 HRS: AMUSEMENT PARK**

They made their way through the park holding hands. They stopped at a candy stand. Kensi picked out a bag of cotton candy and a candy apple; Deeks went with a caramel one and insisted on paying.

Deeks then made a stop at the photo booth and passed over the ticket. The picture popped up on the screen. Kensi had to admit, it was nice. They'd been standing in front of one of the garden sections so bright red and white flowers were in bloom behind them. They were standing with their arms around one another, smiles on both of their faces. Deeks ordered two and Kensi rolled her eyes but was secretly pleased.

Since it wasn't yet closing time, they didn't have to push their way through a big crowd to get to the parking lot. Deeks looked around and scratched the back of his head. "Do you remember where we parked?"

"Over in section nine," she pointed to the big post with a sign that had the number nine painted on it. "Way in back."

"I can go grab the car, drive it over."

"No," Kensi replied, her hand still in his. She leaned her head against his arm. "I'll walk with you."

He smiled. "Alright then."

"Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for this... it was nice."

He kissed her temple. "Anytime, my love."


	7. Bitten

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 0200 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

It hadn't been a conscious decision; Mike Renko had just driven directly to Angela's place. Angela Mercer lived in a three-story brick building that had been a tire shop that had been foreclosed upon. She'd been renovating it ever since it came into her possession.

The Tony's Tire sign hung more precariously than ever. One big gust of wind and he figured it would fall. He still couldn't believe she was living in what used to be a tire shop. The second floor had once been storage. Renko wasn't sure about the third floor. He guessed at one point it had been an apartment. He didn't figure Angela could do all the plumbing and electrical work herself and doubted that she'd bring in a contractor considering she wouldn't even let him order pizza to the place.

He had his own apartment, a place he had to move to after his house had burned to the ground, a fact he tried not to dwell on. His apartment gave some of the rundown places Callen had stayed at a run for their money. He hated spending time in it, but it was cost effective. He didn't really want to stay in an apartment for long. After all, he'd once had a nice little house. It was hard to return to shabby bachelor pad living after that.

It wasn't that he'd ever asked if he could stay there; it just kind of happened with Angela. When they finished up a case, they just seemed to end up there with take-out, or both of them bumping elbows in the kitchen while they made something. At first she'd offer the guest room since it was usually late when they got in, and besides, since they typically car-pooled, it just saved a stop. Then... it just became natural.

After crashing Emma's birthday party, he had been called into work. Well, his team had, but he'd told Cooper to stay home. It was surveillance. He, along with Faraday and Kimi, could handle it.

With Angela on medical leave, and constantly doing the things she was specifically told by the doctors not to do, Renko worried. He tried to check in on her as much as possible. Still, he didn't think she'd appreciate him coming in at two in the morning.

He looked up to the third floor. Lights were still on. She wasn't wasteful, so if she was asleep, they'd be off. He had a set of keys to the front door, but he was driving her Lexus so he just used the garage door opener and parked inside. He had the keys for the inner garage door as well, along with the security password for her alarm system—not that she ever bothered to use the damn thing anymore since too many people had surpassed it for it to give her any peace of mind.

He could hear the radio playing. It was some talk show; callers were talking about night jobs and how they took time away from their families. He followed the noise to the third floor and took out his key for that door, stuck it in and turned it, letting himself in. The kitchen and living room were one big open space, the living room down one step just past the large island. To the right was a huge order of hardwood flooring that she would be laying after she got the walls painted. Off to the left, beyond the blanket that was tacked up to try and contain the drywall dust, was the hallway that led to the bathroom on the left, guest bedroom/his bedroom on the right, and Angela's bedroom at the end of the hall.

Sugar, Angela's golden retriever, was on him in an instant, whining excitedly, her entire body wiggling with the wags of her tail. He pet the dog on the head absentmindedly, his eyes already on his partner who was standing on a stepladder finishing off a wall, careful not to get paint on her white ceiling.

"How many times do I have to tell you to cut that out?" Renko stormed across the unfinished space to where Angela was painting the wall bricks a deep grey.

She jumped and nearly lost her balance, dropping paint blobs onto her white long-sleeved shirt. It was then that he realized that, while her radio was on, she had headphones on that led to a little MP3 player hooked on her jeans that had swipes of paint on them as well. Her copper hair was up in its typical bun.

She pulled the headphone buds out of her ears and glared at him. "What the hell?" Her eyes shot to the cheap clock on the wall that had drywall dust and paint on it. (It was obvious she would replace it after renovations were complete.) "It's two in the god damn morning!"

"Yeah, so you should be in bed, resting, recuperating, _like the doctor ordered_."

Angela rolled her grey eyes. "I couldn't sleep, and this needs to be done."

"Ange." He was careful when he grabbed her hips, not wanting to press where she'd been shot or her ribs that were still healing. "What the hell's going on?" She gave him a questioning look, and he stared up at her. "Will you get off the ladder, please?"

Calm and reason were good ways to get through to Angela. He figured that way if she lashed out she would obviously be the unreasonable one... and she didn't like that.

With a sigh, she stepped down, his fingertips grazing against her, making sure she didn't fall. "What?" She sounded calmer now, less agitated than she had when he'd snuck up on her.

"You should be in be-"

"I told y-"

"Angela," he said sharply, and her grey eyes narrowed. Her eyes were like a warning sign. Currently they were telling him that he was on thin ice and that he should choose his next words carefully. "I need my partner back." That had the angry look in her eyes fading. "I want you healthy again, Ange. You aren't going to get better if you keep pushing your body like this."

She sighed and put the brush down. He figured that signified the fact that she wasn't going to fight it. "Happy?"

His eyes trailed away from hers and down to her lips and back up again. "Yeah."

She smirked just a little. "It's two in the morning. I know damn well you have work in the morning." She pressed up against him, a wicked grin on her face. "Get some sleep, Michael."

"You're mean." She was tempting, but he knew that she wasn't up for what she was constantly challenging.

She smiled, and it seemed a little sweet for her. She kissed the corner of his lips. "Goodnight, Mike."

"G'night Angela."

Angela patted the side of her leg as she passed him, and Sugar bounded over to her side and followed her toward her bedroom.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 0504 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

It was Sugar's barking that woke him up with a jolt. He pushed aside the blankets and had his gun in hand before his brain caught up. Sugar was highly trained; she didn't just bark in the middle of the night for nothing. With how many times Angela's place had been broken into in recent memory, it left his blood running cold.

Sugar barked again, and he left his room, the chill of the place getting to him since he was only in a pair of blue boxers. He looked into the open space of the living room/kitchen area, flicking on the ceiling lights. Nothing. He quickly checked the bathroom and then opened Angela's door and flicked on the light switch just inside the door. The dog turned to him, tail between her legs, paws up on Angela's bed. Mike looked to see Angela tossing and realized that Sugar wasn't trying to scare an intruder but trying to wake her up.

"Angela," he said, setting the gun on her nightstand and sitting down on the bed beside her. She turned slightly in her sleep, her eyebrows drawn down as she swatted out with her fist blindly but without any real power behind the swing.

He looked to the dog that barked once and proceeded to whine.

Renko returned his attention to Angela. "Hey, come on, wake up," he said rather insistently as he took hold of her shoulders and gave her a bit of a shake. "Ange," he said a little louder. Her eyes opened, foggy and confused. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, brushing his hand over her temple and into the mess of copper waves. She blinked a few times, her breathing evening out, the fog clearing from her eyes as they became sharp and alert.

"Did I wake you?" she asked in a particularly small voice.

"No, Sugar did."

The dog's front paws were tapping in place, tongue hanging out, looking excited and happy to see Angela was now awake. Angela reached over the edge of the bed, and the dog came over and ducked her head under the offered hand and Angela scratched behind Sugar's ear. "Good girl," she cooed and got a lick on her hand before Sugar returned to her doggy bed, circled around and curled into a fluffy golden ball.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Angela's eyebrows drew down in concentration, her eyes flicking to the ceiling. "Not sure, I don't really remember."

He read between the lines. She kind of did remember but really didn't want to discuss it with him. And he understood. In their line of work, nightmares happened and with the past few weeks that she'd been having, he wasn't exactly surprised.

"Stay?" she requested.

His blood chilled; he doubted that she remembered she'd made the same simple one word request when she'd been shot.

The answer seemed to come from that time as well. "I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled and moved over a little and pulled down the blankets near him. He moved to get under them but she stopped him from pulling the blankets up and her hand skimmed over his calf. "When did you get this?"

He knew without looking what she was talking about. Dog bite. He pushed her hand aside and pulled the blankets up. "I was working a case, probably around nine years ago," he started, and Angela shifted trying to get comfortable. He knew with all her injuries that sleep had been a major problem for her. She ended up on her side, her knees touching his leg, her tired eyes on him. He stretched and hit the light switch before finding a comfortable spot once again. "I was undercover. The guy I was with, some low level thug, and I needed a car so we go into this impound lot."

Her toes were warm when they brushed up against his leg where the scars from the dog bite marred his skin.

"I figure it'll be easy, right, get in, get the car, get out."

"I sense a hitch."

"Yeah, well, you clearly know how it ends."

He felt her breath, soft and warm against his arm. "So, tell the story."

"So we pick out the car and I'm busy jackin' the thing, getting all the wires right, and it's dark in the cab, can't see half of what I'm doing, and the thug is right behind me, bitchin' at me to get it done faster. And I hear this barking but... for the first thirty seconds or so it doesn't really register. I mean, it's a shit neighbourhood and I swear I saw dogs that were likely used in fights, so barking isn't really out of the ordinary... but then I realized that it was getting closer, getting louder." He shifted, and Angela pulled the blankets up a little higher to cover her exposed shoulder. "I jump up. I'm man enough to say dogs are scary business."

"Had a few bad experiences?"

He smiled. She sounded sleepy. "Yeah. Before this Matt and I nearly got attacked by a couple of Dobermans, but that's an entirely different story."

"Another time," she said through a yawn.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Finish the story," she demanded as her fingertips brushed against his arm when she moved.

"Okay, okay, so I jump up and I'm ready to bolt; only the guy I'm with is frozen and built like the Hulk. The cars were parked close together, and he's behind me. The dog is coming from the front, and I freeze a second. I can hear the nails on the pavement; next thing I know the dog is ripping me right off my feet. I was lucky, because at this point in the operation, I was wired and my handler sent in help."

"What about the other guy?"

"Arrested on some drug charges, possession with intent to distribute, few other minor offences. He was our way in, not the big game."

"Dog didn't get him?"

"Nope, just me," Renko responded bitterly. "Tore all kinds of ligaments and muscle."

"Ew."

"Blood all over the place."

She swatted him on the side. "Cut it out."

He smiled. "Get some sleep, Ange," he whispered softly. He listened as her breathing evened out to a soft, slow pace. "Sweet dreams," he whispered to her, and then shut his own eyes and fell back to sleep.


	8. Best Laid Plans

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 0656 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Nell breathed in deeply, the earthy scent of her fiancé greeting her. She turned over in the bed they shared. Her hand skimmed over his bare torso, and his hand brushed over her hair. "Good morning," she muttered in a content sleep fog.

"Morning, Nell," he replied softly.

Neither spoke for a while, neither wanting to break the moment of peace that came with the silence. The sun lit up the warm red room through the thin white curtains. The thick orange comforter had been kicked to the end of the bed in their sleep. The sheets matched but the pillows were bold yellow. It was all Nell's from her apartment. Callen didn't care much about what the bed looked like; he was just rather pleased that it was comfortable without being too soft.

He felt Nell take a deep breath, and he knew their day was about to begin. She stretched out on the bed as long as she could, her toes bent down and her arms up. She let out a yawn before sitting up. "I'm feeling like pancakes." She smiled.

"Are you now?" Callen asked with a little grin as his eyes trailed over her bare legs. She wore a cute little blue shorts/t-shirt sleep set that had white polka dots, the shorts tying off with a red ribbon.

"Yep," she replied, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, only he moved at the last minute and caught her lips with his, his hand tangling in her hair. She melted against him. Their lips smiled against one another before she leaned away. "Come on, give me a hand."

He had a mischievous grin; she tried to get away but he was too quick and swept her right off her feet, hoisting her over his shoulder. She pinched his butt in retaliation, and he smacked hers lightly in return before setting her down and pinning her against the wall in a swift move. "Mind your hands."

"It's what you get for sweeping a girl off her feet."

"One might say that's a good thing," he said, dipping his head to brush his lips along her neck.

"Maybe breakfast can wait," she said as his hands skimmed under her shirt.

"That's what I thought."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 0922 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Nell's hair was still wet from the shower they'd shared. They loved the newly-renovated bathroom. Nell was delighted with the design that Deeks' architect friend Jackson had come up with, and the fact that it was no longer dated to the eighties brought her great joy. Callen was just glad that the plumbing had been fixed and no longer did the water run cold and spray off to one side with too much pressure to actually be comfortable.

Nell was dressed in a pink and white floral dress, a blue cardigan keeping her warm. Callen's hair was dry already, even though it was a little longer than he usually wore it. She blamed it on the distinguishing scar that he seemed to try and keep hidden. He wore his usual distressed jeans and a shirt that was a worn out strange green colour that she figured had been darker before numerous washes.

They sat across from each other at the little four-seated square kitchen table, each with a stack of blueberry pancakes loaded with syrup and bacon on the side.

"You know," Nell said conversationally as she cut into the stack of pancakes. "We need to pick a DJ for the wedding."

Callen gave a mental sigh, for doing it out loud might just get him a fork in the hand. _Wedding planning._ It wasn't that he didn't want to be married to Nell, he did, but he could go to a courthouse and sign the papers, exchange rings and be done with the mess. That would be a no fly with Nell, her family, or any of their friends though. Picking out flowers or napkin rings, or venues, or a DJ or photographer... it didn't rank high on his to-do list. He only had a few hours off. He had a lawn that was in desperate need of a cut. Their fridge had a half-gallon of milk, three oranges, a can of soda, two bottles of beer and some expired deli meat, so one of them needed to go grocery shopping. He figured he should go to the gym since they'd been so busy at work that he hadn't had the chance over the past few days. And, he had promised Sam that he'd look after Zachary and Zoe while Sam and Michelle had their date night. He stabbed the pancakes and chewed to buy himself some extra time.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I have a few possibilities; I've done plenty of research on them."

"They play music," Callen said. She shot him a dirty look. "Um... I'm just... it's just that..." he fumbled with his words ungracefully; only Nell could do this to him. He looked back down at his pancakes.

"It is _our_ wedding, G."

"I know."

"Then, please, put your opinion into it."

"Nell, whatever makes you happy, I'm fine with."

Nell sighed deeply and returned to eating her blueberry pancakes without much enthusiasm. She had other things to do. The little garden she'd planted needed to be weeded and tended to. She needed to dust, to sweep and mop the hardwood floors in the house. There was still dust from the bathroom renovations. She also wanted to get the guest room ready and make the day bed they had in their office space since they would soon have a full house with some of her family coming to visit.

She didn't want to ask for help; she could handle it, all of it. She looked across the table to her fiancé who was checking his cellphone while eating pancakes. She stabbed him lightly with her fork, and he looked over at her. "Who is it?"

"Sam, just making sure we can watch Zack and Zoe."

"We?"

"Yeah, Zoe's been asking about 'Uncle G's pretty lady.'"

Nell laughed, and Callen smiled, the tension dissipating... at least until the next time they had to think about wedding plans.


	9. Old Wounds pt1

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 0958 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Her eyes were closed as she lay back on the black lounge couch in Nate's office, her blonde hair out of its typical ponytail and falling over her shoulders. She twirled it nervously around one of her fingers.

"Are you ready?"

She bit down on her bottom lip as she took in a deep breath, counting to four. Exhaling, she counted to six, licked her dry lips and nodded. "Yes. I'm ready."

"Take me back to the very beginning, Sierra," Nate's tone was soft and soothing. He hated to ask these kinds of questions, but he was the Operational Psychologist. It was his job.

Sierra had once been an agent who worked for NCIS in the Office of Special Projects. She now worked as a mechanic over in the NCIS:OSP garage. It had been several years since... _the incident_. A female psychologist had come in to help her, but after a few months Sierra had quit therapy. It was then that Hetty had asked him to help. Nate had agreed, but only when Sierra was ready, pushing would only hurt her further. Hetty had trusted his judgment, and though it had taken years, Sierra had finally come to him and asked him for help.

"Take me back to when you were taken."

She let out a shaky breath, and he watched as she folded her arms over her chest. Defensive. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"Jeremy..." She said the name of her partner and froze.

Nate watched Sierra be at war with herself, trying to fight for her composure, her eyes closed tightly, her hands curled into fists. He knew the events from the file, but he needed to hear it from Sierra, see the reactions she would have.

"Jeremy and I were in the middle of a case..."

_"I would kill a baby seal for some Thai food."_

_"Jer!" Sierra punched her partner hard in the arm. "What is the matter with you?"_

_His stomach rumbled. "I'm hungry. That's what is the matter!"_

_"You have issues." Sierra shook her head._

_"Come on, Sicotti, you've got to be hungry, too."_

_She'd been about to deny it but her stomach rumbled loudly, and Jeremy laughed. "Not a word, Powell!" She warned her partner, not only with her words but also with the narrowing of her eyes and a pointed finger._

_"Yes, ma'am."_

"We were always teasing each other." A little smile came upon her face at the memory. Sure Jeremy Powell had an odd sense of humour, but he'd been her partner. Jeremy had her back through thick and thin. He had put himself in harm's way more than once to make sure she came home safe, and she'd done the same for him. Not only her partner, but her best friend. "We didn't know... we didn't know we'd been burned," she whispered, fear edging into her voice. "We didn't know we were being watched."

_The partners walked in tandem across the parking lot. There were plenty of cars despite the late hour. Los Angeles never slept._

_"Why Thai?" Sierra asked, mostly to break the silence._

_"Why not?"_

_"I'm just saying, you're going to have heartburn."_

_He rolled his eyes and adjusted the baseball cap that covered his dark hair. "I'll be just fine." He itched at the slight beard he'd grown for the case. "It's you who should be worried. You are such a wimp."_

_"Am not."_

_"Are so."_

_She looked over at him to see him itching angrily at the beard and laughed. "Shave already!"_

_"Hetty threatened me with a letter opener. She said I look too baby-faced clean-shaven. I need to be a middle-aged guy."_

_"You are a middle-aged guy." She took a quick turn in her ankle boots, keeping an eye out for any potential tails. Her little floral dress twirled around with her, and she easily fell back into step with her partner._

_"Hey now! I'm only twenty-nine. If that's middle aged, I should only live to be fifty-eight," Jeremy replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I got big plans for retirement."_

_"Oh, yeah?"_

_"Oh, yeah! Women, wine, a yacht."_

_"At fifty-eight you want women, like plural?" She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Don't you want to settle down? Have kids?"_

_"Hell no." Jeremy shook his head. "I'm married to the job, you know? My dad was married to the job... broke up my family pretty bad. Brutal custody battle. Nah, I don't want to potentially be that guy. You know, the one who lets his family down? I'd rather just... be a free agent." He looked over and ruffled her hair in an affectionate manner that had her backing away and quickly fixing her blonde strands and glaring at him. "What about you, Sicotti? You want a husband? Kids? I can't see it."_

_"What is that supposed to mean?"_

_She could see that Jeremy knew he was skating on thin ice. "You're good at this job. People like us... we don't get happy endings, Sierra. We either live for our work, get so lost in the bottle we don't know which day of the week it is, or die bloody... sometimes all three."_

_"Wow," she said dryly. "That's optimistic."_

_"It's just the truth" he responded, with the slightest of shrugs. "You might not like it... but name one agent who is happy in their relationship."_

_Sierra was quiet a moment. "Sam Hanna."_

_"Okay, well, he doesn't count."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because, he's a SEAL."_

_"Formerly."_

_"They're... cut from a different cloth. He hasn't been NCIS long, and he's OSP. Eventually the lies always catch up with us."_

_Sierra frowned as she tried to think of another agent who was happily married. Another agent who was even in a normal, steady relationship. She couldn't._

_"I still want it," she admitted. "To get married, have a husband, a home, maybe kids."_

_"Then retire young," Jeremy advised. He smirked, just a little, and threw his arm over her shoulder. "This about that new agent you all but drool over?"_

_"What are you talking about?" She played innocent but she was glad the lighting was so terrible because she was pretty sure she was blushing. Then again, she could feel the tension in her shoulders and was sure he could feel it, too._

_"That new guy... Faraday. You really think I haven't noticed the way you stare at him, or when you talk around him you start fumbling over your words like some love-struck teenager." He laughed; she ducked out from under his arm and gave him a quick, light punch to the kidneys._

_"Shut up!"_

_"What?" He laughed. "I think it's cute."_

_She glared. "No one will ever find your body," she threatened darkly. He just laughed and threw his arm back over her shoulder._

_"Love you, too, Sicotti."_

The memories poured over her now that she'd opened the door. She sat up, feeling like she couldn't breathe on her back.

Nate quickly moved from his seat to sit beside her and guided her head between her legs, but took his hands away quickly when he felt how tense she was. He knew she had problems now with people touching her and didn't want to push her any further.

The black spots faded from her vision as she got her breath back.

_"No one will ever find your body."_

She gasped for air. She had been teasing but it had stuck with her all these years. She wished she could take it back. Never threaten him like that. Her entire body shook as she tried to contain the sobs.

"When they did the construction here, re-purposing the building from the water treatment plant to the Office of Special Projects, many things were changed," Nate told her, his voice monotonous, which had a calming effect on Sierra. "And some things stayed the same. The water treatment plant was very loud, so the two offices on this level are sound proof. I requested one of them when I found out." (The other office belonged to Assistant Director Granger, since Hetty wanted to be in the thick of things.)

She looked over at him with her teary blue eyes. He gave her a little smile. "You can cry if you want. Scream if you have to. You could even break things and nobody but me would know."

"I think someone would notice if your lamp was broken in the garbage can."

He shrugged. "I hate that lamp."

She laughed but it became a sob, and her hands came up to cover her face.

 _"Love you, too, Sicotti."_ She held on to the last thing he'd said to her before the chaos, the blood, and fear.

She forced herself to continue, her words coming from between clenched teeth. "It was then that four men came at us from all sides. They'd been hiding in between the cars..."

_"Hands up," one of the men demanded, and Sierra looked to Jeremy._

_"Look, take our wallets. We won't report you. Just leave us alone." He played the part of the worried boyfriend._

_"Hands up!" The men demanded once more._

_Both agents slowly put their hands up a little bit. Jeremy was the senior agent in their partnership, and she looked at him to see how he wanted to play it. There was a tenseness to his jaw line, fire in his dark brown eyes, and his fingertips moved just slightly as if he were waiting for the moment to curl them into fists. He gave her a sharp little nod, and she knew. Fight it was._

_The barrel of the first gun went to the small of Jeremy's back, and he quickly turned. In a well-practised manoeuver, he disarmed the man. They were still outnumbered though, and all three men pointed their guns at Sierra when Jeremy twirled around to point the gun at the man who had spoken. "Put it down."_

_"No. You put yours down. You shoot me, one of those two will shoot your partner."_

_Jeremy stiffened under the words, turned to look at Sierra. Her blue eyes wide, worried, she shook her head just slightly not wanting him to give up the weapon. He frowned and bent down slowly, keeping his eyes on the men as he laid the gun down on the concrete._

_"Smart move, Agent Powell."_


	10. Old Wounds pt2

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1025 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

" _Smart move, Agent Powell."_

"We really knew we were screwed," Sierra's voice hoarse as she tried to keep the tears at bay. "It was then that we knew we'd been burned somewhere along the line."

"What happened next?" Nate asked.

"Sedation. Chloroform." She shuddered. "I was unconscious longer than Jeremy. He was already awake when I came too... looked like he'd gone a round with the men... His temple was bleeding; his hat and shirt were gone. They'd... they'd..."

They had cut into his chest, straight lines, flesh wounds, nothing fatal but surely painful. Nate had read the reports, but he needed Sierra to go through it, no matter how much it pained her. She needed to face it, talk about it, in order to move past it.

"They'd cut him... there was... blood trailing down his chest."

_The scream echoed in the warehouse where they were being held. She closed her eyes tightly but she knew by the scent that the bucket of liquid they'd splashed at Jeremy hadn't been water. Vinegar._

" _Open your eyes, bitch!"_

_She did, and she hoped that any traces of fear were gone. She hoped her face was defiant, angry._

_The man smirked but didn't strike her. His hands skimmed down her body. It was then that two things happened: one, she realized she had been completely stripped down and two, Jeremy started yelling and she knew he was trying to maintain the man's attention._

_As the man's hands skimmed over her body, she had tried to get away, even knowing that it wasn't going to happen. Her hands were cuffed above her head, her toes barely skimming the ground. The pain in her shoulders was immense; her fingertips felt numb; her arms ached; and yet... none of it was worse than the gentle caress of that man's hands._

"He raped me."

She said it so coldly, her expression blank, numb.

Nate didn't go out to touch her, sensing that would be the wrong move. There was nothing that could really be said to make any of it easier at this point. He knew what happened, had read it in the file. She seemed somewhat trance-like as she sat there and recited all that had happened in the warehouse. He knew he had to break her out of it for a while _._

"Have you had sex since?"

Sierra jumped, a look of ire on her features, her blue eyes chilling as they glared at him. "Excuse me?" It wasn't the kind of 'excuse me' one said when they missed part of a conversation. It was an 'excuse me' of the 'I dare you to say that again' variety.

"Have you had sexual intercourse since you were raped?" He could actually hear her teeth grind together as she turned and glared at the snow globe that had been a Christmas present from Hetty that sat on the bookshelf across the room. "Sierra," he said softly. "You asked me for help. That's what I'm here trying to do but I can't help you if you won't open up."

"No."

He knew he was pushing it; he knew that she was answering his earlier question but he asked anyways. "No, you don't want me to help you?"

She turned, her blue eyes cold as they narrowed on him. "No, as in I haven't had sex since then."

Sierra was burning with rage. Sure, she'd asked for help. She liked Nate. She trusted him; they'd been friends for years. But that didn't change the effect that the memories she was laying before the psychologist had on her, didn't stop the horrible sense of helplessness from returning.

"I'm never going to be normal again, am I?"

"Normal is relative," Nate said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Focus on being who you want to be."

Sierra sighed. Who did she want to be? She'd focused for so long on who she could no longer be, focused on just... getting by, surviving.

"What happened next?"

"Nothing," she responded, sounding almost dazed as her mind went back to the warehouse.

_The men who had taken them had cut their arms down only to chain them to rings in the floor. Too far away to be of any good to the other. The position of the chains kept both Sierra and Jeremy in prone positions. The men didn't ask either agent a damn thing; they just left, the door screaming as it closed and the clank of something barricading the door from the outside._

" _Sierra?" Jeremy whispered softly._

"It was like hearing someone speak when your head is underwater. All distorted, quieted... my head was just... gone. I... I remember how cold the floor was because when they cut me down there was just no strength left." She wished she could have said she was stronger, had been more defiant. "I laid out on that floor and felt like I'd never be warm again."

" _Sierra!" Jeremy finally snapped and yelled at her. It got through, and she blinked, focusing her eyes on her partner. "I need you to stay focused, okay? We're going to get out of here."_

" _We don't even know what they want," Sierra argued, curling her body into the fetal position. She felt so vulnerable, so weak, so used. The men knew they were agents so why hadn't they just made their demands._

" _They're trying to weaken our resolve. It won't work. No matter what... we don't give them what they want."_

"They left us there... I don't know how much time passed. Seemed like an eternity... it was probably more like a day. I fell asleep a few times, so did Jer. Neither of us made much of a guard. We figured the door would wake us. And it did. When it opened next the man who raped me, the one who seemed to be in charge, came forward and looked down on us..."

 _She eyed_ _the man. She hoped she looked angry, defiant, but she felt weak... fearful. His fingertips brushed against her temple and back into her hair, and she felt a sudden wave of nausea._

" _Sierra." Jeremy's voice was soft and comforting. He said nothing more but her eyes stayed locked on his, and she felt some sense of ease. This was her partner, her best friend. He was here; they had a chance._

_The man waved over one of the others, and they unhooked her. She fought ineffectively, her body cold and stiff, too slow and too weak to do any real damage. She screamed till her throat was raw and kicked out as much as she could, but it didn't stop them from hanging her with her arms back above her head, her toes barely touching the ground._

_The ache in her shoulders returned immediately, her wrists raw as the chains dug into old injuries, her body still naked, vulnerable and cold._

_The man stood between them both, a smile on his handsome features. He didn't look like the kind of man who would kidnap two federal agents, torture one with a knife and rape another._

" _Special Agent in Charge, Jeremy Powell, I guess I'll start with you," the man said, his knife in hand glinted under the overhead light. "There is a weapon the two of you were guarding two days ago."_

_Jeremy's eyes met Sierra's, and she knew what 'weapon' the man was talking about. It was a bomb that had two functions. First, it detonated with everything you'd expect, a big 'boom' causing lots of destruction within the blast radius. Second, it was loaded with a bio-hazardous airborne substance that would be released when the bomb detonated and would spread out past the initial blast radius with the potential to kill many more people from the inside out._

_Sierra grit her teeth as she looked at her partner, his eyes went to the knife with a look of acceptance._

"He thought that the knife would be his end, but he would never give some terrorist anything," she said with a great deal of pride. "Jeremy was one of the best."

The smile on her face faded as she thought more on what they'd been asked for. "That kind of weapon... it easily would have killed thousands, just within blast radius. Even more with the bio-hazard." She took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. "Jer looked at me then, and he gave me this little smile, and I guess... I think it was supposed to be reassuring, that he knew what was coming, that he accepted this. He would lay down his life to protect civilians. It was a decision we made everyday when we put our badge on... just this time... we knew we were at the end of our time."


	11. Old Wounds pt3

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1132 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

" _I don't know what you're talking about," Jeremy responded defiantly._

_The man waved the knife around. "Don't play dumb."_

_Jeremy stayed tight lipped._

" _Agent Powell." The knife skimmed over the agent's shoulder, but no blood was drawn. "The bomb, where is it now?"_

" _I don't know anything about any bomb."_

_The knife was pressed to Jeremy's collarbone. "How about you, Agent Sicotti?"_

_Jeremy's eyes gave her a direct order. They widened just slightly and seemed hardened in his anger. His nostrils flared; his lips pressed into a hard line._

" _No," was all she could manage passed her chapped lips._

" _Powell, here is what I'm going to do." He crouched down behind Jeremy, the knife still pressed to his neck._

"It didn't matter that he was whispering," Sierra said softly. "I could still hear every vile thing he told Jeremy that he would do to me." She started to physically shake, her heartbeat all too quick in her chest. "Can I just... can I take a minute?"

"Of cour-"

Sierra was out of the suffocating office in a second and leaning on the railing across the hall. She could see Hetty's office from where she was; Agent Nassir was inside speaking to her. The central bullpen was empty; the agents out on a case or perhaps up in the Ops centre. Wardrobe was buzzing with activity, a few agents, and a couple of seamstresses. Ty was over in one of the corners cooing over some piece of technology as he put it back together. This was normal; she wasn't back in that room... wasn't tied up... wasn't watching Jeremy die all over again. And yet, she still couldn't quite manage to catch her breath.

"Sierra." Nate was at her side, and she looked over to see the worry in his big brown eyes. He was hands-down the most compassionate person she'd ever met. She felt safe with him always. Even now.

"Nate," she said, gasping for air. "I can't... I can't do this." The panic seemed so overwhelming; every breath seemed strained; she couldn't seem to get enough air. "I can't."

"Sierra." His voice was compassionate, empathetic without the edge of pity that she hated. "You are the strongest person I have ever met. The decision you made that day saved thousands of lives. It was tragic, an impossible decision that you were forced to make... an impossible decision that you then had to live with. I promise to be there, whenever you need me. If you want to take a few days, fine, but... you need to get this out before it eats you alive. You still have so much left to live for, Sierra."

She shook her head. "I can't." She turned and ended up running straight into Faraday. His arms came around her automatically to steady her, and he earned a quick knee to the groin for his troubles.

He dropped like a stone, a groan escaping his now pale lips.

"Shit." She ran her hands through her hair. "Noah?" She crouched down beside him, the panic disappearing with the new guilt of dropping her friend in a rather cruel way. She hadn't meant to; her mind had been elsewhere and feeling his arms around her had given her a knee-jerk reaction. Nate was hovering over her shoulder. "You okay?"

Faraday was practically in the fetal position, holding himself. His dark green eyes opened to glare at her. Clearly, he was not okay.

"Noah! You got the keys?" Cooper shouted, coming around the corner and staring at his partner on the ground, Sierra crouched by him and Nate standing nearby. He quickly assessed the situation and came to a pretty reasonable conclusion as to what had happened. Everyone in OSP either knew Sierra from before _the incident_ or from working in the garage after, and they all knew at least a little of what she had been through. Cooper came to crouch down beside Sierra and looked over at her. They'd been friends before the incident. "You alright, sweetheart?" He asked her affectionately.

"Don't mind me, writhing in pain." Faraday growled at his partner before Sierra could answer. He managed to sit up, his back against the metal railing.

"Maybe I was talking to you," Cooper said, swatting his partner's knee. _"Sweetheart."_

Faraday's eyes narrowed, and he pushed Cooper over onto his ass with his foot. "Jerk."

"Do you have the car keys?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Come on then, princess," Cooper couldn't help but needle his partner. "We've got to go."

Faraday dug the keys from the pocket of his black slacks and threw them at his partner. "Go, I'll be there in a minute."

Cooper stood and pocketed the keys. He looked to Nate and raised an eyebrow as if to ask 'you got this?' Nate nodded and that was good enough for Cooper who continued on his way to the stairs.

"Nate, you give us a minute?" Faraday requested.

Nate turned to Sierra who gave a nod; Nate gave one in response and returned to his office.

"I'm so sorry," Sierra whispered before chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

He waved off her apology dismissively. "You alright?"

She sat down on the floor near him. "You're the one who probably can't have kids."

"Want to test that theory?" He regretted it the second it was out of his mouth, and he cringed. "Sorry. Brain is still rebooting."

"Which head?"

He shook his head. It was times like this where it was like it was _before,_ when they flirted incessantly with one another. "Nice."

"I try."

"I know," he responded softly. "That why you're in there with Nate?"

She'd had small victories since _the incident_. If she was honest, she was mostly trying to move on so maybe, just maybe, she could have those things that she'd always wanted-a family, a husband who loved her, maybe a few kids. She doubted her ability to obtain those things.

Faraday put an arm lightly over her shoulders, and she tensed. A while back they'd shared a bed, on separate sides and fully dressed, but it had been the closest she'd been to someone in a long time. Maybe if she was totally honest, a lot of her reasons behind wanting to move on, behind believing that she could, were because of him. He wasn't willing to let her fall through the cracks. He'd come to the hospital every day after it happened, at least when he wasn't undercover. He'd come when other agents hadn't, or had once and couldn't return. She understood. She forgave those agents. Then, there was Noah Faraday. He brought her soup. He made her smile. When she came back as a mechanic, he'd been the only one to talk to her for the first few weeks. Those friends and acquaintances didn't know what to say, what to do around her anymore.

"I want to move on," she whispered. She was struggling not to freak out about the arm over her shoulders. Faraday pushed his luck occasionally. Sometimes he held her hand. Sometimes she let him, sometimes she drew away. She wanted to stop that. She wanted to be able to take his hand and be fine with it, feel as safe with him as she knew logically that she was.

"Nate will help," Faraday responded. "But don't expect it to be overnight."

"I know." She sighed. She wished it could all be different but dealt with the reality of the situation. "Shouldn't you get going? Ryan is impatient."

"Yeah," he groaned as he reached for the railing and pulled himself up. "Well... you still have a wicked knee."

She grimaced. "Sorry about that."

He nodded. "I know, but try not to do it again, okay? I'm rather fond of that piece of anatomy."

She couldn't help but grin and shake her head. "Be safe."

"Always," he responded, pushing his luck as he pressed his lips to her temple.

She watched him, walking a little slower than usual, obviously still in some degree of pain. She felt terrible. Hitting bad guys, she didn't care, but this was Noah, and she'd kneed him for absolutely no reason, or no good reason, and in a place she tried not to hit guys. It just seemed unjust.

Oddly, the kiss to the temple had a kind of soothing effect. No longer could she feel the traces of fingertips or the vulnerability and sickness that came with it. When no one else could, Noah could bring her out of her panic attacks, could make her see reason, or at least give her something in the present to worry about. He'd laid out his feelings for her before; she knew where he stood. He said he wouldn't walk away and thus far hadn't. It surprised her, and that made her feel guilty. He was a good man, true to his word. Still... he deserved someone whole.

Sierra forced herself back into Nate's office. "I need to finish this."

He gave her a smile. "I know."

She shut the door behind her and took her seat back on the lounge couch. He took the chair across from her.

Knowing what was coming did nothing to prepare Nate for hearing it from the broken agent.

"Both of us knew what that man was going to do to me, and both of us knew we could say nothing. Those lives were worth more than my body... or my soul..."


	12. Old Wounds pt4

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1155 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

" _So, Agent Powell... what will it be? Will you tell me where the bomb is?" His footsteps were heavy, ominous, as he crossed the room to Sierra. His hands wandered over her body lightly. "Or, do I get the consolation prize?"_

_She knew the answer by the way Jeremy's eyes dropped to the floor. He shook his head. "Sorry."_

She cried this time. "He raped me again." She wiped the tears on the heels of her palms. "I wanted him to just kill me, Nate."

He closed his eyes. She wasn't the first agent to have said that to him, or something to the same effect, and every time it shook him to his core, left him feeling cold and momentarily helpless. He didn't let it show. Instead he extended his hand. She stared a few seconds before taking it and holding it tight. It wasn't much, but it was a start. It was hard to watch her cry, knowing the pain she was in, but he knew she had to get it out.

Nate's thumb brushed gently, comfortingly, over her knuckles as she tried to calm herself down. She wished in that moment that Faraday was there with her. Maybe he needed to hear this as much as she needed to say it. Her hand tightened around Nate's. She had come for help. She needed to finish this.

She sat up a little straighter and blew her bangs from her eyes, which focused on Nate's. "Neither of us gave him what he wanted... so he switched tactics..."

_The man adjusted his pants, a lewd smile on his face. Tear tracks marked Sierra's face, and Jeremy's eyes were still on the ground. "How about this, Agent Sicotti... you tell me where this bomb is," he motioned over one of the guards and took a gun from him. "And I don't blow his head off?"_

_Sierra stared as the gun lined up with Jeremy's head. The agent sat up a little straighter from his prone position. He looked up at her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. She saw the tears on his face, the absolute despair._

_The gun cocked, and the man looked over at Sierra. "What will it be?"_

_She knew that she couldn't allow the man to have the weapon, not even if it would spare Jeremy's life. She doubted giving the information would actually spare either of them anyway. They'd stayed defiant until the end._

"I kept thinking: this is it, this is the end, we are going to die here." Sierra's hand tightened around Nate's. "I thought of my parents... and what they were going to hear whenever my body was found... I thought about my friends." She looked skyward, trying to blink back tears. "About the last time I'd gone out with everyone. Renko had... had kept pressuring Callen into drinking. The two were completely wasted by the end of the night." She smiled but tears still fell down her cheeks. "And Cooper and I were trying to keep them upright, and Eric was opening doors as we walked them out." Sierra sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her free hand. "I thought of girls' nights with Kensi, gossiping and cosmos." She was quiet for a moment, and tears just kept welling up in her eyes. "And then I thought of Noah... I thought about the first day we met. He was so sweet and funny. I thought about him challenging me to one-on-one basketball the first week of knowing one another. It seemed more of an excuse to flirt and brush up against one another than a real game. I thought about the nights out in groups where we'd end up dancing or playing pool or going up to the bar together to get more drinks... just... _together_. And then I didn't want to die. And I was _scared._ "

Nate was a psychologist, but not heartless. His throat burned, tears pricked in his eyes, but he kept his emotions in check.

"I didn't want to die... but I knew we were going to... and that I... that I would..." He heard her teeth grind together. "That I would have to watch Jeremy die... and I would be next..."

" _Agent Sicotti?"_

" _I'm sorry, Jer."_

_He nodded just slightly. "See you on the other side, sweetheart."_

" _How adorable," the man said dryly before pulling the trigger. Sierra screamed, her throat hoarse, and she tasted blood. Her partner was crumpled on the floor, blood pooling. She felt sick to her stomach. The man stood before her. "Defiant."_

" _Just kill me." She knew it was going to happen. She knew her time was up. She wasn't going to give the man what he wanted. He had taken her partner's life. He was going to take hers. She thought of all the things she wanted out of life, the things she would never get to have. She thought of Noah._

" _No." The man responded. "You can live with this... or die if no one finds you. Killing you seems merciful at this point." He tucked the gun into the back of his pants. "Don't think you've won. I found out about you two special agents. I'll find someone else, someone who will talk. I'll get what I want... and the two of you... will die for nothing."_

"He left me there," Sierra sobbed. "I don't know how long it took... but... the four other members from our team came in. One of them cut me down... I... I don't remember much after that. Blacked out." She took a few minutes to compose herself, her hand tightening around Nate's, keeping her grounded to the here and now. "Our team... three members transferred, the fourth quit right after that. I never saw any of them again."

"They never came to the hospital?"

She shook her head. "No." The incident had happened just a few months before Nate had transferred into OSP. "Hetty did. She brought a female psychologist... back when you were kind of in on Fridays and your position was a trial. Hetty figured a female would work better." She shifted. "Noah came. Everyday unless he was undercover, and when he was he sent Hetty to tell me that. Some other agents came, sat with me a few minutes but... it was tense, uncomfortable. They didn't know what to say... neither did I. I was a shell... part of me died with Jeremy in that room."

"But more of you survived, Sierra."

She smiled, just a little. "You really think I can be okay?"

"How do you define okay?" Nate asked with a little shrug. "You have lived a productive life. Has it been a happy one?"

She bit her bottom lip. "I'm trying."

"What do you want out of life?"

She shrugged and ducked her head, a little embarrassed. "Just the normal stuff, you know? I want the same stuff I did when I told Jer... I want a husband, a home, a few kids. Family, Nate, I want family and I just... I can't anymore, you know. I can't."

"You can," Nate argued softly. "And you will, when you're ready."

She sniffled a bit, and he passed her the box of Kleenex from his desk. She blew her nose and tossed the paper cloth into the waste bin. "You really believe that, Nate?"

There was a gentle tap on the door. Faraday poked his head in. "Hey... uh..."

"Aren't you supposed to be out with Coop?" Sierra asked, cutting off his question.

Faraday sighed. "Yeah, well, Cooper told Renko what happened and, out of sheer pity, he's going with Cooper instead, sent me home."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Remember that movie you rented; we should return it. I'll choose another one."

"My picks are not that bad!" Sierra said defensively.

"Name one good movie that you picked." Sierra opened her mouth but couldn't think of a single one. His face broke out in a smile. "Anyway, offer's open when you're done. I have some stuff to finish up in the office."

"I'll meet you there."

"Alright." He gave a little wave and then shut the door behind himself.

Sierra turned back and caught Nate smiling. "What?"

He pointed to her and then to the door. "That."

She gave him a questioning look, and his smile grew.

"Whenever he comes into the room, you just light up. When you're around him... you know you're safe, and with him, you're happy and more than anything, Sierra, that gives me the utmost confidence that you have the strength within you to move on. And, whenever you need it, he'll be there to help you. I hope you know that I will be as well."

Sierra nodded and wiped the tears that started with the sudden calm that came over her. "Thank you, Nate."

"Anytime."


	13. Date Night

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1740 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

"Honey, have you seen my earrings?" Michelle asked as she continued to go through the jewelry box on her dresser. "The white gold dangling ones?"

"Not recently," Sam replied as he stood in front of the full-length mirror in their room, adjusting the collar of his white button up shirt. "Are they in the bathroom?"

"No, I checked there." Michelle huffed out a breath and looked around the room while Sam stared at his wife in awe. She was gorgeous in her own right, no man could deny that-tall, curvy, a halo of tight curls, small nose, plump lips, dark chocolate eyes. The dress she was wearing flirted with the floor, barely skimming it, champagne-coloured silk that shimmered every time she moved. She wore a large white gold cocktail ring that surrounded a polished oval of amethyst.

Sam grabbed his navy blue suit jacket and pulled it on. "I'm sure they'll turn up, Mitch." He adjusted the jacket before he stepped up to her, his hands running over the silk that covered her hips. "And you look gorgeous."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you. You're looking incredible as well." She pressed up against him, her hands running over his shirt. "We make quite the pair."

"That we do," he agreed as he dipped his head to capture her lips with his.

The doorbell rang, followed by three quick knocks. Sam sighed as he leaned out of the kiss. "Must be G; he always has terrible timing."

"Answer it," Michelle responded. "I want to take one last look for those earrings..."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1744 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

"Hey, G," Sam greeted, stepping back to let his partner in. "Thanks for doing this."

"No problem," Callen responded. Honestly, he missed seeing Zachary and Zoe. He used to spend more time at Sam's, whenever he was between places, but since Nell he'd had a more stable home life. "Where are they?"

"Back yard," Sam answered. "I thought Nell was coming with you."

"She ran to the grocery store," Callen responded. "I figured I'd take the kids over to my place. Nell is making dinner. There's a new park a few blocks down. We'll take the kids there and wear them out. I rented a movie... it has talking dogs so it'll be a hit."

Sam smiled. "Sounds good."

"They could stay the night; guest beds are made; give you and Mitch some alone time."

Sam's smile grew. "I love you, man."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, G," Michelle greeted as she came into the entranceway, her earrings found and dangling from her ears. "Thanks for doing this."

His eyebrows jumped a little. "No problem, but if you want to take me out instead..."

She swatted his arm and laughed. "That's a classy offer."

Callen shrugged. "Have a good time, you two. Now get; I'll lock up when I wrangle those kids of yours."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1812 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

Michelle held her husband's hand as he drove. She let out a pleased sigh. "Can you remember the last time we did this?"

"No," Sam replied with a laugh. "Probably before Zack was born."

She shook her head; it hadn't been that long, but still a very long time since they'd had a night to themselves. "I'm glad G offered to take the kids."

"Me, too."

There was a comfortable silence between them. Neither felt the overwhelming need to break it. They'd been together for so long that the connection of their hands interlocked was enough. They simply enjoyed the time that they had together.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1831 HRS: APHRODITE**

Sam handed his keys to the valet outside of the arguably most romantic restaurant in all of Los Angeles.

"You must have pulled some favours to get a reservation here," Michelle commented as he took her hand and they walked across the lovely cobblestone out front. To either side there were beautiful statues of the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, whom the restaurant was named after.

And he had. He had talked to Deeks, who had talked Jax, who's cousin Madison was the manager of the restaurant. Deeks owed Jax now, and Sam owed Deeks-big time. "Anything for you," he said, even if it meant owing Deeks. She smiled softly and leaned her head against his shoulder for a few seconds.

He stepped away to open the door for her, and Michelle walked in first. The place was still as gorgeous as the last time they'd been there, when Callen had finally proposed to Nell.

They had a booth in the corner that was private and romantic with a couple of floating candles in a water vase.

They talked about their children, the news, and flirted shamelessly with one another through their meal and dessert. He held her hand across the table, his thumb running over her wedding ring, and she smiled over at him. "Mr. Hanna," Michelle whispered seductively as her leg brushed against his. As much as she was enjoying her time at the restaurant, being wined and dined... "We currently have a house with no children in it."

He didn't need a bigger hint; he raised his hand. "Check, please!"

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1945 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

Michelle laughed as she ran across the grass in her bare feet avoiding her husband, but he quickly caught her, picked her up and carried her to the front door before setting her down, pinning her to the door with his body. He shoved the key into the lock and felt Michelle pulling his shirt from his pants and then her warm hands were on his skin.

"Be patient, woman."

"Sam," she whined.

"It's the lock, Mitch," he complained, wiggling it and pulling the door handle. "Damn thing is jammed."

"It always does that, wiggle it a bit, hurry up," she insisted, her hands roaming a little lower. He swatted her hand.

"We're outside."

"I'm just giving the neighbours something to talk about."

"Is that so?"

"It is." Her lips trailed along the back of his neck. He finally got the door open, dragged her inside, and slammed the door shut behind them.


	14. Uncle G

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1748 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

"Have a good time, you two," Callen told Sam and Michelle. "Now get; I'll lock up when I wrangle those kids of yours."

They said their goodbyes. Callen walked to the back door and outside to the patio. Zachary was in the sandbox making a castle with Zoe's help. It reminded him of the trip he'd taken with the team. That trip felt like forever ago. The kids were better at making sandcastles than he was, but not nearly as good as Eric.

He was able to walk halfway across the lawn before he was spotted by Zoe. She jumped up and ran over. "Uncle G!"

"Hey, Uncle G." Zachary was only a few steps behind his sister.

"Did you bring the pretty lady?" Zoe asked, her big brown eyes staring up at him.

"Nell, no, she's getting groceries so she can make us dinner. You guys are staying with us tonight."

"Can we make a tent?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah," Callen said with a shrug. "Sure."

"Sweet!"

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1816 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Callen carried backpacks full of Zachary and Zoe's things into the house, the kids trailing close behind him. He knew Nell was already home, her Mini Cooper had been in the driveway. He opened the door. The kids went in first and he followed, kicking the door shut and locking it behind himself out of habit. The scent of pot roast floated through the house. Zachary's stomach gave a timely rumble.

Shoes were kicked off; jackets hung up in the closet. Callen ditched his keys in the red and orange swirled bowl. They clinked together with Nell's.

"Hey, you two," Nell greeted. "You hungry? Dinner's nearly done."

"Yeah, I'm starving," Zachary replied.

"Me, too," Zoe said.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1822 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Callen's food had nearly gone cold because he had to cut Zoe's meat, then Zachary spilt his juice down his shirt so they had to quickly go change it, then he got a call from a long distance number that he recognized. With a smile he picked up the phone.

"How's it going, Jethro?"

" _Pretty good. Figured you might want a head's up. You're on the list to come to the Washington conference."_

"Are you serious? Again? I had to go to it last year."

" _No, that was the year before,"_ Gibbs corrected.

"Really?" Callen sighed. The conference was for NCIS team leaders, a couple of days of lectures on how to be more efficient in the field, how to best utilize your team, blah, blah, blah. It was a couple days where he could be actually _doing_ that job. He had years of experience, while most of the speakers had never even stepped foot in the field. "Crap."

"G, is it work?" Nell asked, poking her head into the living room where he was standing with the phone to his ear. He shook his head. She looked inquisitive but Zoe called for her and she returned to the kitchen.

" _Who was that?"_ Callen could hear the smile in Gibbs's voice.

"So you didn't get it yet," Callen said thoughtfully as he picked up a photograph from the bookshelf; it was a good one. It had been taken on a team night out; Kensi had taken it when neither of them had been paying attention. They were in the booth, his arm around her, and they were staring at each other.

" _Get what?"_

"The Save the Date."

" _Get out!"_ Callen just laughed at the absolute shock in his old friend's voice. _"Are you serious, G?"_

"Serious as a Save the Date," Callen replied.

" _Congratulations! Who's the lucky lady?"_

"Nell Jones. She's the intelligence analyst on my team."

" _Hmph. Guess you flipped the bird to rule twelve."_

"Oh, I'm not tellin' you what I did to rule twelve."

The angry silence had Callen laughing. _"You didn't need to go there, G... but you sound happy. She must be one hell of a woman."_

"Guess you'll have to come out here and see for yourself," Callen replied. "And you better be coming to the wedding. My family side is looking pretty empty. Her family is going to wonder what the heck they're doing allowing their little girl to be married off to some man with no one."

" _I'll be there,"_ Gibbs promised. _"And I'm sure her family knows that you're a good man. That says more than a few empty seats... that and, no matter how perfect a man is, no father wants his daughter off and married because there isn't anyone good enough."_

Callen frowned. It was at times like these that he was sure that Gibbs thought of Kelly; she'd probably be married off, likely with kids by now.

" _You still looking?"_

Gibbs's question brought Callen from his thoughts. As vague as the question had been, he understood what Gibbs was asking him. "Not actively... I guess... I guess I already found what I was looking for..." He leaned against the doorway to the kitchen where Nell was washing dishes and Zoe had a handful of suds, blowing them all over the place, while her brother helpfully dried the dishes. Nell looked over and smiled. "It just wasn't my name." Because here, with her, he'd found home, family, and really, wasn't that what he'd wanted all along?

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 1849 HRS: CHERRYTREE PARK**

The park was new to the neighbourhood. It was all plastic, one of those super safe parks. No metal rocking horses, no potential wood splinters, none of the screaming metal-on-metal of spinning platforms.

The kids stood there seemingly trying to decide what to go on first when Zachary turned quickly and tapped Nell on the arm. "Tag! You're it!" Both Zoe and Zachary took off as fast as their feet would take them and a split second later Callen was off, too.

There was laughter as Nell chased the children, eventually tagging Zoe who tagged her Uncle G when he was hiding behind the slide. Zachary's feet kicked up sand as he ran across the lot and climbed over the picnic table to avoid Callen who was right behind him. They stood on opposite sides with smiles on their faces. Callen went right and Zachary moved to the corner of the table in response, keeping the same distance. Callen went left and Zachary quickly moved back and then stuck his thumbs to his temples, hands spread as they waved back and forth. "Na, na, na, na, na, na!"

Callen jumped up on the table. Zachary took off, screaming "You can't catch me!" He jumped up the stairs of the jungle gym where his sister was waiting with the escape of the slide at her feet. Callen went under the jungle gym while both kids were looking over the railings.

"You see him, Zo?" Zachary asked.

"No," she whispered. "Do you?"

"N-Ah!" Callen's hand tapped Zachary's shoe.

"Zack's it!" Callen announced.

Zoe screamed and came down the slide and took off running when she hit the bottom.

"Aw man!" Zachary took the slide down and went after his sister.

The game of tag went on for a good forty minutes before the kids were tired out. Nell sat down heavily on the park bench. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Zoe panted. "That was fun."

"Can we make a tent now?" Zachary asked as they all made their way back to the car.

"Yeah, sure," Callen responded. "We'll have to work the TV in it if you want to watch the movie though."

"Movie! Does it have talking dogs?" Zoe asked. "Those are my favourite!"

"Yes," Callen replied with a knowing smile. "There are talking dogs."

"Sweet," Zoe replied.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4: 2025 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

The dining room chairs made a circle around the television stand. Blankets covered it all and the four of them brought the cushions from the couch, the bright blue and yellow throw pillows and pillows from the bedrooms along with a couple of blankets inside, making it rather comfortable and cozy in their little tent.

Callen was half lying down, propped up with lots of pillows. Nell was lying against him, her back to his chest. The kids were both on their stomachs in their pajamas watching the talking dog movie.

"This is nice," Nell whispered softly to him. She couldn't help it. The entire time they were with Zachary and Zoe her mind had been on children. She wanted one of her own, one with Callen. Little feet running through their home. He was so good with his godson and goddaughter; she just knew from how he acted with them that he would make a wonderful father.

"Yeah, it is," he replied quietly but was still shushed by Zoe who gave him a dark look, which he just smiled at. He enjoyed spending time with Sam's kids. They were a lot of fun and they got him to lighten up; the job seemed so distant when they were near.

Zoe had fallen asleep before the end of the movie. Zachary pulled one of the blankets up to his little sister's chin. Callen had just intended on resting there a while, wait it out until Zachary fell asleep, but he didn't have the motivation to move once both kids were out. He was comfortable with Nell in his arms in the little tent in their living room. Before long, the four of them were sound asleep.


	15. Waffles and Cake

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 0800HRS: DEEKS RESIDENCE**

It was the tone declaring that he had a text message that woke Deeks from his slumber. He was naked, lying face down on his pillow, enjoying the extra sleep of the last day of his weekend off. The room was exactly the perfect temperature. He had absolutely zero desire to move. Joining his singing phone a few seconds later was a louder, more demanding tone. He turned his head to look at Kensi; she was also naked but lying on her back. It seemed she had zero desire to move as well. Her eyes turned to her phone but the rest of her stayed perfectly still. God, she was gorgeous, confident and comfortable in her own skin, and really was there anything sexier? Deeks's answer was no.

"Could be important," Kensi muttered, not even wanting to move her lips.

"Mhm," was Deeks's response.

"You get it."

"You get it."

"I don't want to move."

"Me either."

"Both our phones... it's probably work." Kensi sighed and rolled over.

Deeks shifted and got up on one of his forearms while he reached out to grab his phone. "It's Eric."

"Yeah... he wants... team breakfast."

"I know this place," Deeks said, sitting up quickly.

"Must be good." Kensi noted her partner's enthusiasm.

"Waffles, Kensi. Delicious waffles."

"I'm in."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 0800HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

Sam and Michelle were searching the kitchen for something they wanted to eat for breakfast when the front door, which Sam was sure he had locked, opened. He was on his feet in a second but the sound of Zoe's excited chatter made him relax.

"Five am, Sam," Callen said, his voice coming from the side entranceway.

"Hi, Mommy. Hi, Daddy," Zoe said, running through the kitchen and down the hall with her pony backpack.

"Hey," Zachary greeted, quickly taking his backpack down the hall.

"Five am," Callen repeated, coming into the kitchen with Nell at his side. "They've been up since five am."

"Thanks, G," Michelle said with a big grin.

"Yeah, did you make muffins? I at least want..." Nell's phone went off and a second later Callen's did, too, three after that was Sam's. "Must be work," Callen muttered.

"Eric," Nell confirmed. "Um... but he wants breakfast."

Callen's stomach rumbled loudly.

"You guys have been up since five and haven't eaten?" Sam teased.

"I tried making pancakes for Zoe," Callen said. "Apparently, I don't do them right. I gave up and brought them home. Deal with it."

"I can't," Michelle said. "Zack and Zoe have dentist appointments in an hour."

"Want me to go with you?" Sam asked her.

"No, go with the team, have a good time- a safe one for a change," she said, her big brown eyes narrowing at him playfully.

"Give me ten," Sam said. "We'll carpool."

"Make it eight, I'm hungry," Callen shot back.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 0800 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Nate had stayed all night to finish off a few reports and catch up on a couple of files. He'd taken a quick shower in the men's dressing room and put on a suit he kept in his locker for those occasions when he ended up spending the night.

He walked into Hetty's office with the reports he had completed for her and placed them on her desk when his phone went off. Then a second later, hers too. Both pulled out their phones and checked them. "Hm. This is not like Mr. Beale," Hetty said.

"No, but not so out of the ordinary as to be worrying," Nate replied but puzzled over the text message for a second longer.

"What are you thinking, Mr. Getz?"

"I'm thinking Eric wouldn't be inviting everyone out for breakfast of all things if he wasn't excited about something."

"I agree. The surf reports this morning look wonderful."

Nate shot her a curious look.

"Some of my agents are surfers," Hetty said, answering the unasked question. "It pays to know where they might be."

Nate conceded to this and gave a slight nod. "I think I'll go. How about you?"

"I'm afraid I have a video conference with Vance in fifteen. Do give the team my regards."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 0834 HRS: WILLIAM'S WAFFLE HOUSE**

Sam had ended up driving, mostly because Nell had driven her Mini Cooper to drop off the kids, and neither Sam nor Callen liked the idea of ending up in the back seat. They took the Challenger. Nell ended up being the one in the back seat. Callen opened the door and extended a hand which she took as she stepped out with a smile on her face that sparked one on his.

"I'm just sayin'," Deeks said, getting out of the car.

"Well, it's completely ridiculous!" Kensi sounded absolutely exasperated.

"It's too early for this," Sam decided. "What the heck are you two arguing over now?"

Deeks put his hands up a bit as he launched into the scenario. "Okay, so you got Godzilla and The Loch Ness Monster, who wins?"

"Godzilla," Sam answered at the same time Callen answered, "Loch Ness."

The partners stared each other down.

"I'm with Sam on this," Deeks agreed.

"Hell must have frozen over," Nell said with a big smile.

"Sam and Deeks on the same page?" Kensi said with a raised eyebrow.

"They must be in the wrong book," Callen said, and he and Kensi high-fived.

"Come on, children," Nell said rather condescendingly. "Eric is waiting."

Another car pulled in, familiar, so they waited as Nate got his lanky body out, shut the door and hit the lock/alarm on his key chain. "Good morning," he greeted.

There was a jumbled response from everyone and conversations launched as the six of them walked into the wonderful little family-run all-day breakfast joint.

"This is what heaven must smell like," Deeks said.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 0921 HRS: WILLIAM'S WAFFLE HOUSE**

Everyone had eaten hungrily and had cups of coffee or juice. As much as everyone kept prying, and as excited as Eric and Bethany both looked, neither was talking about the reason behind this little event.

"Well, this has been great," Nate said. "I have to get my check, though; I've got a couple of appointments back at... work." Sometimes he nearly slipped and said OSP, which he really shouldn't ever, but especially around Bethany.

"No!" Both Eric and Bethany said. Bethany shot Eric a look and he turned to Nate. "You can't go yet."

Nate sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "What's going on, Eric?" He had a suspicion but he wanted Eric to be able to give the news himself.

One of the waitresses came over with her serving tray, a slab of cake on it. "Ready?"

Eric nodded, and the young woman carefully placed the cake on the table. It was covered with white icing and, in alternating blue and pink icing, it read: _'we're having a baby.'_

"Oh, my God!" Nell jumped from her chair first, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh Eric, Beth, I'm so happy for you both."

The chairs all screeched against the floor as everyone stood with smiles on their faces. Handshakes, hugs, and well wishes all around.

"How far along are you?" Kensi asked.

"Seven weeks," Bethany responded excitedly. She then blushed a bit. "I didn't catch it at first, so... we're kind of still getting used to the idea ourselves."

"Eric a dad, huh?" Deeks said with a grin. "Nervous?"

"Very," Eric admitted. "Terrified I'll mess the poor kid up."

"Don't worry. You will make a great dad," Nate said, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. When everyone looked at him, he shrugged. "Trust me, I'm a psychologist."

"You'll be fine," Callen insisted.

For some reason, the fact that Callen thought he'd make a good father put Eric at ease. "Thanks, guys. We were so excited to tell all of you."

"Your parents know?" Nell asked timidly. She knew that he didn't have a very good relationship with his mother- ever, but it managed to get even worse after Darby. He was a little estranged from his father, but at least they could look each other in the eye.

Eric shook his head. "Na. Dad's in... Cuba? The Caribbean?... I think he might have gotten married again. I'm not sure." Bethany put a supportive hand on his arm, and he smiled over at her. "It's all good though."

"What about your parents, Beth?" Nell asked.

"It's just my mom. We're... we're actually heading there after we finish up here."

"You agreed to tell these jokers before your mom?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We flipped a coin to see whose family we'd be telling first," Bethany responded. "I chose tails; it was heads."

"We shouldn't keep you then," Callen said.

"We can stay a while," Bethany responded quickly. "Besides, there is this cake that needs to be eaten."

"Cake with breakfast," Deeks said, sitting back down along with everyone else. "It's going to be a good day."


	16. Cupids

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1002 HRS: JACKSON BENNETT RESIDENCE**

**_Address: ** _NGetz@NCISOFFICE.gov_** _ **

**_Subject: Been a while_ **

_Hey, Nate!_

_It's been a while. I'm just saying. Maybe we could do coffee sometime... or dancing... do you dance? Maybe we could do dinner, that's safe and comfortable, everyone has to eat, dinner would be good._

~Delaney

"Good?" Delaney muttered as she stared at the laptop screen, reconsidering the entire message.

"That's a lot of word vomit, Delly."

Delaney jumped in her seat, her hand over her heart. She turned to stare at her brother who was still reading her email over her shoulder. "You scared me, Jax!"

"Sorry." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Just ask if he wants to get dinner. Keep it clean and simple. Skip coffee; he'll get the impression you're trying to friend zone him."

She smiled at her brother as he walked, albeit slowly, over to the fridge. He'd been up and around more and more. He'd been working plenty. His secretary had flown back to Texas to keep that office from self-destructing in his absence; Delaney was helping him with the start up of his new architectural firm in Los Angeles.

"Well, I'm just trying to tell him I'm open to things."

Jax pulled out a carton of orange juice. "No, that email tells him you're desperate."

Her fair eyebrows drew down as she studied the message. "Does it?"

"Coffee, dancing, dinner- please anything!" Jax said tauntingly as he pulled down two glasses and without offering or being asked poured her one and passed it over.

"Hmm." She considered her brother's advice as she took a sip of the orange juice. "He is a psychologist... he'll read into this even more than you."

**_Address: ** _NGetz@NCISOFFICE.gov_** _ **

**_Subject: Been a while_ **

_Dinner?_

_~Delaney_

Jax looked over her shoulder. "Really?"

"What? Brief- to the point, but not sounding desperate," Delaney defended. "Keeping it simple."

Jax rolled his green eyes, sat on the island stool beside his sister and dragged her computer over.

**_Address: ** _NGetz@NCISOFFICE.gov_** _ **

**_Subject: Been a while_ **

_Hey, Nate!_

_I was just thinking about you. We should catch up. How does dinner sound?_

_~Delaney_

He pushed the computer back. "You're welcome."

Delaney looked at it a second before subtly altering it.

**_Address: ** _NGetz@NCISOFFICE.gov_**  
_ **

**_Subject: Been a while_ **

_Hey, Nate!_

_I was just thinking about you. We should catch up. How does dinner sound?_

_XOXO Delaney_

She quickly hit SEND before she could worry over it anymore. "Alright. How's the day looking?"

"Finished up the designs for the firm's office; wanna check them out?"

"Of course!"

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1008 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Nate was quickly filling out reports, trying to get them completed before noon when his appointments with a few agents would be starting in half-hour intervals. His computer dinged, informing him of a new email. His eyes flicked from the paperwork, and he smiled at Delaney's name coming up in the sender's list, 'been a while' in the subject line.

He read the message, and it brought a smile to his face. It wasn't as cluttered with her usual jumble of thoughts that came out of her mouth as quick as she thought them, but with email he supposed she could better censor herself. The X's and O's were her through and through.

**_Address: Delaney-Bennett@NYmail.com_ **

**_Subject: RE:Been a while_ **

_Greetings, Delaney,_

_Dinner sounds wonderful. When are you free?_

_-Nate_

"Greetings?" he muttered. "Who says that?"

"Greetings, Mr. Getz." Hetty walked in. He jumped, rather startled, and she smiled. "How did breakfast go?"

Nate smiled. "Great."

"Well?" Hetty pried.

He shifted in his seat. "It's not really my news to tell, Hetty."

"Oh, it must be really good then. How far along is she?"

Nate opened his mouth to question and then thought better of it. This was Hetty after all. "Seven weeks."

"Good for them," she smiled, walking up to his desk. "Do you have the Umada report?"

"Almost finished with it, Hetty."

"And yet your eyes keep going to your computer. Are you playing one of those foolish games, Mr. Getz?" Her eyes peered at him over the rim of her glasses in a rather intimidating fashion.

"Um, no, no, I'm not. I... uh..."

"Oh, this must be good," Hetty said, walking around to look at his computer screen. She tutted. "You should be more direct, more confident in your response. Be yourself; you never say 'greetings.'" She shook her head. "She's already opened the line of communication. She's asked if you want dinner. She doesn't want the run around- you don't want this lady friend to think she'll have to wear the pants in the relationship. A woman wants a man, Mr. Getz. I believe the phrase is 'grow a pair.' Make reservations. Tell her when you'll pick her up."

Nate shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to make eye contact anymore. Hetty was an enigma. He'd completely given up on trying to figure her out. And when she said things like 'a woman wants a man', it freaked him out in the way it would when a parent speaks of sex. Instead, he quickly made reservations at a restaurant that Hetty recommended.

**_Address: ** _Delaney-Bennett@NYmail.com_**  
_ **

**_Subject: RE:Been a while_ **

_Hey, Delaney,_

_Dinner sounds wonderful. I made reservations for eight o'clock tonight. I hope that time suits you. I can pick you up at seven-thirty; you're still staying with Jackson, right?_

_-Nate_

He looked cautiously over at Hetty as the mouse hovered over the SEND button.

"The girl needs to know what to wear," Hetty said. "You could be taking her to the food court at the mall for all she knows."

"I wouldn't need reservations for the food court," Nate shot back.

"Cheeky bugger."

**_Address: ** _Delaney-Bennett@NYmail.com_**  
_ **

**_Subject: RE:Been a while_ **

_Hey, Delaney,_

_Dinner sounds wonderful. I made reservations for eight o'clock tonight. I hope that time suits you. The place is semi-formal. I can pick you up at seven-thirty; you're still staying with Jackson, right?_

_-Nate_

Again, he turned to Hetty, and she gave a little nod of approval. "Now, I still need that Umada file. Get on it, Mr. Getz!"

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1012 HRS: JACKSON BENNETT RESIDENCE**

Delaney was standing behind her brother, who was at his work desk. He had an adjustable desk that he angled up for sketching. "You really outdid yourself, Jax." She looked over at her laptop, still open on the island. It hadn't dinged, but she couldn't help it.

"It's a statement piece," he said, sitting back and admiring the sketch and rough blue prints. "People don't want to hire an architect who works out of a boring building."

"Fair enough," Delaney said, adjusting the hem of the purple V-neck sweater she was wearing as she looked over her shoulder at the computer and then back to the sketch. "When will construction start?"

"Still hashing out some details with the construction crew, but demo of the old building on the lot is complete. Construction can start in a week or so. Earlier if I can manage it."

She smiled as she placed a hand lovingly on her brother's shoulder. "You have always been impatient."

He smiled, still staring at the sketch, "Yeah, says the woman who can't stop looking at the computer, impatiently waiting for a reply."

"What? I'm not... waiting... I was just... glancing, you know, because I don't want to miss it and then seem inconsiderate."

"Yeah, that must be it," Jax responded sarcastically. He hadn't even had to look at his sister to know she was compulsively looking at her computer every few seconds.

It dinged, and she was halfway across the room before she registered her brother's laughter. She turned and stuck out her tongue at him. He shook his head, standing slowly, still healing from multiple stab wounds and a liver transplant. He watched his sister. She tired easily, but she was moving with more ease than he was even after she'd donated half of her liver to him when his had been damaged beyond repair.

"You're on your own for dinner," she said.

"I'll survive," he insisted, walking across the room and reading the response over her shoulder.

"Is there no privacy?"

"We shared a womb. No."

She laughed.

**_Address: ** _ ** _NGetz@NCISOFFICE.gov_**_**  
_ **

**_Subject: Been a while_ **

_Eight sounds great, Nate! Yeah, I'm still at Jax's. I can be ready by seven-thirty. Text me if anything changes! I can't wait to see you!_

_XOXO Delaney_

"That sounds a little overeager, Laney."

"That's okay, Jax." She smiled and hit SEND. "I am."

"You really like this guy."

"You already know that, otherwise you wouldn't have tried to help me with the messages."

"What can I say, I'm a romantic."

"Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically, with a roll of her eyes. "You're a regular cupid."

"Smart ass."


	17. Prison Visit

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1030 HRS: CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON**

Renko, for once in his life, was at a loss for words. Matt was in a brown shirt, which Renko knew meant he was in protective custody. He was an undercover cop. If any of the people he'd arrested spotted him in the yard and figured it out, he'd surely be shanked before lunchtime, so he was kept away from all the other inmates. The guard was eyeing Matt with contempt; he likely saw him as a dirty cop... which... he kind of was. Renko's stomach churned. He could never see his best friend as a dirty cop; Renko wasn't sure what he would have done if he'd been in Matt's shoes.

"Hey," Renko said finally, sitting down across from Matt.

Matt's blonde hair was longer than Renko had seen it in years; his blue eyes were underlined with dark shadows. He gave a slight nod of his head but said nothing.

"How've you been?"

Matt gave the slightest raise and drop of his shoulders.

It wasn't just hard to see Matt like this but impossible. "Matt."

Matt's blue eyes had contempt in them when he looked up. "What?"

Renko stayed quiet for a long minute. He could tell that Matt's anger had likely been smoldering for days, waiting for something, anything, to lash out at; he didn't want to be that thing.

"I put your stuff in storage and got you a good lawyer."

"Like it makes a difference," Matt muttered under his breath, his eyes refusing contact.

"Stop." Renko shook his head. "You can't think like that."

"I'm a cop in a state prison," Matt responded quietly, but his voice didn't lose any of the anger that was simmering below the surface. "My life was just packed up into boxes, and I don't think a lawyer, no matter how good he or she is, will be able to get me out of this clusterfuck. I'm in protective custody for fucksake! Solitary confinement for my own safety. The guy in the cell next to me is a fucking child molester who won't shut the fuck up!" Both of his hands ran through his hair. They both just sat there for a moment. "This is some kind of sick karma."

"The trial date is coming up."

"Yeah," Matt whispered, his voice edged with fear, the anger dissipating under the weight of it. "At least it'll all be over, one way or another."

"There is a big internal investigation into the precinct. Everyone who works there is being questioned."

"They think someone else might have done the same thing I did."

"Yeah."

"No one will be stupid enough to fess up to it," Matt said with a self-deprecating half-smile. "That would only be me."

"That other ca-"

"Don't." Matt shook his head. "Please, Mike. Drop it. I don't want to talk about it." Renko gave a little nod, and Matt sighed in relief. "So... what's going on with you?"

"Ange is still out on medical leave. Hetty told me this morning that she's bringing in a temp. "

Matt made a sound akin to humour, but it was dry and not at all like his usual self. "Good luck with that."

Renko rolled his eyes. Matt knew how much Renko didn't like working with unknown parties. It happened all the time on the job- suddenly having to work with the CIA, or another NCIS agent; didn't mean he had to like it, though.

"Maybe you'll be lucky," Matt said with a grin that almost looked like the one he used to wear outside the prison walls. "Maybe the temp will be a woman; maybe she'll be hot." Renko shook his head. "Oh, wait." Matt's smile grew. "You're already banging your partner."

Renko shut his eyes and took a steadying breath. "I am not... I'm not with Angela."

"Yeah, okay..." Matt's voice was filled with sarcasm. "Maybe you haven't banged her yet, but you're with her."

"No... I mean..." Renko cursed softly under his breath. "It's complicated."

"So you want to be but your head keeps getting in the way?"

Renko forgot sometimes how well Matt really did know him. They'd been friends for many years; they both got paid to observe people. They knew each other, every weakness, every strength. "I'm her partner and team leader."

"So?"

"So... so _it's complicated_."

"Yeah, your situation is so complicated," Matt replied dryly as he sat back a bit in his seat, slouching down and eyeing the guard.

"Time's almost up," the guard warned them.

"Yeah," Renko replied and then turned back to his friend. "Want me to get a message to anyone?"

"Thank that Deeks guy for coming through on the lawyer." Renko would have gotten Deeks himself, but since he was still labeled as an LAPD detective it would have been a conflict of interest. Still, he had his hand in the lawyer pool and had a few favours still owed. "Have you..?"

"What?"

Matt shook his head. "Never mind."

Renko thought on it a second before he sighed. Just as Matt knew him, he knew Matt. "She's called me every Sunday since you've been locked up at three when she's on her dinner break."

"How much does she know?"

"All of it."

Matt nodded, and the look on his face was like he was accepting a death sentence.

"She cares."

"She shouldn't."

"Matt-"

"Time's up," the guard said.

"I'm going to see you through this," Renko promised.

Matt nodded like it was the response that was expected of him but not really the one he wanted to give.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1055 HRS: CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON**

Renko put his watch back on once he was outside of the prison. He also had gotten his keys back after having to give them to the guards when he checked in. The sun was beaming down; they were at the beginning of a heat wave that was expected to last at least until Friday according to the radio station he'd been listening to on the way there.

Matt being in prison made Renko feel ill. Every visit his best friend looked more depressed. The beginning of the trial was set for the thirteenth of the month, and Renko wasn't sure how he felt about it. Matt would either get his freedom or a _very_ long sentence.

His phone rang; technically speaking, he was on-duty. It was a text from Kimi. They had a case. He shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and unlocked the door to Angela's Lexus. He didn't much like his car after he'd nearly died in it. He sat in the car a minute, the car turned on and A/C on full, his mind processing everything Matt had said and storing it away. He was an atheist, but he prayed for his friend anyway before he started driving back toward the office.


	18. Sand and Sunshine

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1100 HRS: MALIBU BEACH**

The waves were little more than a gentle roll and, for once, that was okay with Deeks. He and Kensi had swum out pretty far and then raced back to shore. He'd won, and she didn't appear happy about it.

"You cheated," Kensi decided as she stopped to ring out her long dark hair that was pulled straight by the weight of the water.

"Did not," he replied, running both hands through his own hair, trying to get some of the excess water out. "You're a sore loser."

She rolled her mismatched dark eyes. She was in a yellow bikini. That alone should have been enough to distract him from winning, but he'd kept his eyes on the shoreline. "You owe me lunch." That had been their wager- loser buys lunch.

She thought about arguing, but her words died on her tongue when he closed the few steps of space between them, put an arm around the small of her back, pulled her in and kissed her. Both bodies were warm but the droplets of ocean water were quickly cooling as the wind came off the water. Her tongue flicked against his lip, and his mouth parted just slightly. He pulled back with a little laugh. "We should cut this out, or it's going to get embarrassing."

She laughed; they both trekked up to where they'd left their towels and bags. They dried off quickly. Kensi wrapped a black sarong around her middle, covering the wonderful view of her butt in those yellow bikini bottoms. Deeks thought it was a shame.

He pulled on his t-shirt. She pulled on a white tank top and eyed his grey hoodie. "You going to wear that?"

"Na, I'm okay," he replied. "You want it?"

She nodded. He tossed it over, and she pulled it on. It was too long everywhere. It nearly covered the little black sarong; only the tips of three of her fingers peeked out from the end of the arms. The hood was over her head, but some wild wet curls escaped.

They packed up and walked together. Deeks had his arm over her shoulders; her arm had snaked around his back. They were comfortable walking in the silence, each held closely by the other. The sun warmed them; their bare feet sunk slightly in the sand as they headed toward the chip truck they'd seen parked in the lot on the way in.

Deeks unlocked the doors to his Rubicon, and they put their beach bags on the back seat. The surfboards were on the top but the lack of good swells had led them to leave them there. Deeks unlocked his glove box and grabbed his wallet.

"Thought I was buying," Kensi said, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled and pulled her in. "I cheated... you were obviously distracted by my fabulous hair during the race."

Kensi rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the smile off her face.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1140 HRS: MALIBU BEACH**

They each had a hotdog and shared a large order of fries. Kensi had a watermelon slushie, while he had a bottle of water.

"This week is going to be busy," Kensi predicted, tossing a small crispy fry into her mouth.

"More than usual, you mean?"

"Yeah," Kensi replied. Thirsty, she chugged a bit of her slushie; a second later she slammed down the drink and put the heels of her palms to her temples. "Brain freeze!"

Deeks laughed and shook his head. "You can't just chug a frozen drink, Kens."

Kensi lowered her hands and ate a few more fries. "Some of Nell's family is coming down. Nell is getting stressed over the entire wedding business. Callen isn't being helpful."

"Guys are never helpful in things like that," Deeks replied before eating the last bite of his hot dog. He washed it down with some water and took a couple fries before Kensi ate them all. "Look at Sam, for instance; you and Nell had to help him out with picking a suit."

"Weddings are a big deal, Marty," Kensi said, keeping her eyes down. She took a little sip of her slushie and then twirled the large straw around a bit.

"Weddings are only a big deal because people make them that way. They fork over thousands of dollars when the only thing they really need to do is go to the courthouse and sign the license."

"Is that what you'd do?" Kensi asked, her eyes staring into his soul through her line of dark lashes. Suddenly he knew he was in the hot seat and this was no longer about Nell and Callen.

He took a moment to consider, to think clearly, and then he shook his head. "I wouldn't want a huge production... but a little something, you know. Private, intimate, nearest and dearest kind of thing."

Kensi gave a nod, and he sighed in relief. There was no anger or screaming so he assumed he passed the little test. "I wouldn't want anything big either, but... I'd want the team... my mom."

"How are things going with you and Julia?" He gave himself a little pat on the back for the subtle step away from wedding talk and back into safer territory.

"Alright," Kensi replied. "She texts me some times. She wants to get breakfast sometime..."

"You should go."

"I just... she still seems so sad, so tentative, as if she needs to walk on eggshells around me," Kensi sighed and took a sip of her slushie. "It's like she's waiting for me to run again."

"Prove to her you're going to stay."

Kensi smiled a little and looked across the little table at her partner. That was exactly what he had done for her. "I will."


	19. Temp

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1142 HRS: OSP GARAGE**

Renko didn't bother to lock the car when he got out. It was parked in the secure NCIS:OSP garage. If someone stole Angela's Lexus, which he was driving, from there, then there was more to worry about that just a pissed-off partner.

"Hey, Noah," Renko greeted. It seemed the fair-haired agent had been waiting for him, since Faraday fell into step beside him.

"You missed a fight."

"What kind of fight?" Renko asked worriedly.

"Don't worry too much; Coop and I broke it up before it really got started." Faraday opened the door to the stairwell since Renko had parked on the second level of the underground. "I had picked up Angela earlier. She had some medical papers that Hetty wanted her to fill out while you were at the prison, so I volunteered."

Renko sighed as he started climbing the stairs. "Who'd Ange get into a fight with?"

"I came in a little late to tell- Hetty or your temporary partner." Faraday grabbed Renko's arm and stopped him on the platform between staircases. "Her name is Jessica Sterling. She's twenty six-"

"Pretty young for OSP," Renko commented, cutting his teammate off.

Faraday's eyes slightly narrowed. "She's here under Assistant Director Granger's recommendation."

"Great," Renko replied sarcastically. "Anything else I need to know?"

"I don't know much; I do know that Angela is about eight kinds of pissed. I recommend going to see her before you go and see Hetty, who's safeguarding our new... teammate."

"Where is she?"

"Cooper drew the short straw; he's with her in the incinerator room. Figured she couldn't do much damage there."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1147 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Renko had intended on going directly to the incinerator room, but he was stopped in his tracks by the calling of his name. He turned. Hetty was standing on the raised platform of her office and beckoned him over with a single finger.

Knowing that he really didn't have any choice in the matter, he walked over, and the woman who'd been sitting at the desk stood. She stood taller than Kimi, but shorter than Faraday, falling somewhere in the middle of the two. Her long fair hair was pin straight and in a ponytail; it reminded him vaguely of how Macy had kept hers. Her eyes were bright green; black eyeliner and a grey eye shadow gave her a mysterious and alluring look. Her pouty lips were glossy, and she smiled at him. She was dressed in a skirted suit- immaculately tailored, navy blue, gold buttons, white collared shirt underneath.

"Special Agent-in-Charge Michael Renko, this is Probationary Junior Agent Jessica Sterling. Jessica, this is Mike."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jessica said, sticking out her left hand. He figured from it that she was likely left-handed; he also noted the lack of any engagement ring or wedding band.

"Uh, you, too," Renko responded and then looked to Hetty. "That looks like paperwork, and my name is on it."

Hetty smiled. "Good thing I employ you for your observation skills!" Renko sighed, being on the ass end of sarcasm from Hetty was not what he needed right then. "Sit, Mr. Renko, Miss Sterling."

Renko knew the quicker he got this entire meeting out of the way, the sooner he could go and make sure Angela was okay... or, at this point, make sure Cooper was.

"As you know, Mr. Renko, your partner has been on medical lea-"

"She's coming back."

Hetty looked at him from over her glasses, a look that clearly said she did not appreciate being interrupted. He pressed his lips together.

"Until she is fit for duty- cleared physically by Dr. Zhu, mentally by Dr. Getz, and requalifies for her firearm- you are left without a partner. You will also be showing Miss Sterling the ropes; she is probationary here at OSP. You will be her training agent."

"And when Angela returns?"

"Miss Sterling will complete her training time with you, unless there comes a mission which would be detrimental to her progress," Hetty replied, pushing a file over to him. "These are files you need to sign. These are the files I tried to give Miss Mercer before she..."

Renko turned to Jessica. "What did Angela say to you?"

"Nothing too bad," Jessica replied. "Most of her anger was directed at Hetty."

Renko cursed under his breath and looked to Hetty. "So what did she say?"

"It boiled down to me being a traitor, Mr. Renko. Saying it was not appreciated is an extreme understatement."

"She's not dealing well with all this time off, and now she sees you filling her spot."

"Temporarily!" Hetty replied. "You need a partner to keep you safe in the field."

"I used to specialize in solo ops, Hetty," Renko replied coolly. "I don't need someone in the field."

"Now you do," Hetty argued. "You no longer are being put into operations which briefings are meant for a single operator. You're being given team assignments; and these briefings require four to six people per team. We do this because it works, Mr. Renko; it keeps our casualties down and our success rate up."

"Are we done?"

Hetty sat back in her chair and studied the special agent before her. "You've had a rough few weeks, Mr. Renko. This is for the best."

"I know you think so." Renko grabbed the folders and stood. He thought the added pressure of training an agent on top of everything else was far from the best but knew better then to argue. He turned to Jessica. "Kimi is up in Ops." He pointed to the door up on the second floor that could be seen from Hetty's office. "Go sit with her."

"Maybe if I just talk to-"

"There isn't talking to Ange; there is Ange yelling at you. Right now she's likely taking this entire situation out on Cooper. You go sit in Ops; the guys will be up in a minute. Kimi is already getting us set up for a case; she'll give you a run down of the tech stuff."

"But ma-"

"I'm the agent in charge of this team," Renko said, cutting her off. "I said go sit with Kimi."

Jessica stood, but she didn't look happy as she brushed past him.

"You need to leave your anger at the door, Michael," Hetty advised.

"This was Granger's idea."

"And it was a good one."

Renko shook his head. "You say it's for my own good, but she's probationary."

"She's exceptional," Hetty said. "I would have fought Owen on this tooth and nail if I didn't think it was for the best. She's trained. You don't get to OSP by being 'good'; you get here by standing out. She'll hold her own."

"We'll see."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1202 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Renko waited outside the incinerator room. It was silent, and that worried him. He opened the door, and Cooper was standing just inside of it. "Oh, thank God," Cooper whispered. "You dealing with this?"

"Yeah. Go to Ops."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Cooper responded as he left. Renko shut the door behind him.

Angela was leaning against the counter, her hands gripping the surface tightly, her knuckles white. She wore a pair of her jogging pants; likely jeans were still a little uncomfortable due to the bruises and slowly healing bullet wound. Her shirt was black, a little looser on her than it was a few weeks ago, he worried because she didn't have any weight to lose.

"Hey," he said.

"Did you see her scores?"

"What?"

"Sterling! Her scores! I saw them; the file was open on Hetty's desk when she called me over to introduce me to my _replacement_."

"Sterling isn't replacing you. She's a temp, a probationary one."

"Hetty told me she used to work for the CIA; she specialized in undercover missions. Her probationary status is so she can get used to working in an NCIS unit."

Renko walked over, grabbed her lightly by the chin and forced her head up so her eyes would meet his. "You aren't going anywhere."

"No, I'm not. I'm on fucking medical leave. I'm not allowed to do a damn thing, Mike. I'm being replaced here- Granger is pushing her in and me out."

"You're a conspiracy theorist," he said with a little smile and a shake of his head.

"Am I?" Angela asked.

"Hetty is true to her word, Angela," Renko insisted. "And she didn't appreciate your lack of faith in her."

"That your way of trying to get me to go apologize?"

"No, that would be a foolish waste of my time. You never do a damn thing I try to get you, too... alternatively, you won't stop doing the things I tell you not to."

"Hey, I didn't drive."

"Thank God." Although, from a look in her medicine cabinet, he knew she had already stopped taking the pain medication that was the reason behind her doctor refusing to let her drive.

She shot a punch to his arm but it didn't really have any force. "I'll go talk to Hetty."

"Good."

"Will... will I see you tonight?"

"Depends on the case," he replied, wishing that her hair was down instead of in its typical bun so he could run his hands through it. Then again, considering that they were at work, maybe that was for the best.

"How's Matt?"

"Depressed," Renko replied on a sigh. "I can't think of anything else to do."

"You've done all you can. The trial is coming up."

"And what happens if he's sentenced?" It was a fear he didn't even want to voice, but it was like they were alone in the world with the heat of the incinerator.

"Prison break," she said seriously. "I know some people who can set him up with some papers; we'll smuggle him out of the country."

Renko stared at her but couldn't tell if she was joking or serious. "You do realize you work for a federal agency, right?" She just smiled.


	20. Breakdown

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1808 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Renko was lucky to be getting out on time. It was an absolute rarity, but their job had been a surveillance op that was picked up by another team. He kept his head down as he hurried through the corridors. His team got Mondays and Tuesdays off- when they didn't get called in- and he was looking forward to starting his weekend.

He still had some paperwork, but he figured it could wait until Wednesday. Cooper had managed to get out of the building at exactly one minute after six. Faraday had still been at his desk doing paperwork when Renko had left, and it made him feel a little guilty. He was team leader and, instead of doing the responsible thing, he was getting the heck out.

"And you aren't helping at all!"

Renko paused in his step when he heard Nell's angry voice. Callen's team had Saturday and Sunday off, unless they got a case, but it wasn't completely out of the ordinary for Callen to have to come in on his days off to finish up paperwork nor was it out of the ordinary for Nell to have to come in and do whatever it was the techs did in Ops.

"Calm down," was Callen's reply.

Renko shook his head. "Bad move," he muttered under his breath. Last thing you wanted to tell an angry woman was to 'calm down.'

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Nell responded heatedly. Neither was yelling from their spot by Callen's desk, but they weren't exactly being quiet either.

Renko was standing near Hetty's office, and they shared a look. He raised a questioning eyebrow, and Hetty shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Nell, it's going to be fine."

"Do you have any idea how much we still have to do?"

"Your family is-"

"Exactly, you think that's going to make it easier?"

"I thought it was," Callen muttered.

"Hey." Renko broke it up a bit, but stood out of the way of any potentially harmful objects that could be thrown. He'd learned well from his fights with Angela. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Callen responded.

"Nothing?" Nell huffed. "Nothing? It's only _our wedding_."

"How hard can it be?"

Renko shot Callen an incredulous look. Surely he did not just ask that.

Nell's face was flushed with her anger. Her hands were curled into fists. "Are you _fucking_ serious?"

Callen and Renko both stared at Nell for a long moment. It was rare that she said so much as 'bugger.' Her pulling out the f-bomb had both men in a state of shock.

"Woah." Renko semi-recovered first. "Let's just... take a moment. Sounds like you need some help with the wedding."

Nell leveled a dirty look his way. "You don't say," her voice practically dripped with sarcasm, and he couldn't help but smile just a little.

"Her family is coming tomorrow; I thought they'd be all over this."

"I'm suppose to be hosting them, G, not using them as my personal wedding planners! And I'm still on call all week; that doesn't make things easy." While Nell had the week 'off' to spend with her family, she was on call in case Eric and the team needed her. If a big case came up, she might not be spending much time at home at all. That was the problem. Their jobs were continuously getting in the way of their wedding plans. If it kept up, they'd have to push the date back.

Renko snapped his fingers. "I have a great idea. Call Ange."

"What?" Nell tilted her head slightly.

"Angela, my partner. She's on medical leave, and she's bored out of her mind," Renko informed them. "She keeps doing renovations on her place. She's legitimately going to end up having her medical leave extended if she keeps it up." He shook his head. "Delegate the stuff you don't have time to do over to her."

"Nell's a control freak," Callen pointed out.

Mid-fight it was completely the wrong thing to say, and he knew it a second later as Nell's eyes narrowed at him. "I really could use the help," Nell said. What Callen had said was true... but she didn't think with work and her family visiting that she would be able to get much done, and her husband-to-be wasn't helping any. She turned to Renko, "You really think Angela wouldn't mind?"

Renko shrugged. "I don't think she'd say no... I don't know where she stands on the wedding stuff..." He rubbed the few days worth of hair on his chin and figured it was about time to shave. "Frankly, she needs something to keep her occupied, something that isn't going to leave her injured..."

Nell sighed. "Alright, I don't have her number though."

Renko held out his hand, and Nell handed over her phone. He quickly added Angela's number by memory and passed it back. "You two good now?"

"No, he's still a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but he's your pain in the ass," Renko replied.

Nell smiled a little and looked over at her fiancé. "Yeah, he is."


	21. First Date

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1924 HRS: JACKSON BENNETT RESIDENCE**

Nate knocked on the door to the condo, and Jax let him in. "Delaney will be down in about..." Jax glanced at his watch. "Ten minutes. Have a seat. Nice flowers, she'll appreciate them."

Nate glanced at the mentioned flowers. Big bold lilies and little asters made a happy bouquet. "Ten minutes, huh? Got it timed out?" He took a seat at the kitchen island since Jax was behind the counter, a knife in his hand as he cut up vegetables.

"Delaney was ready ten minutes ahead of time, but then last minute decides she'd rather wear her hair down and the dress she probably tried on first."

"You know her well."

"Of course."

"Is this the part where you do the brother speech?"

"And threaten you with bodily harm?" Jax looked up, a serious expression on his face. "You seem like a smart guy, Nate. I don't think I need to waste my breath with the obvious." Nate smiled a little, and Jax gave a little grin in return. "She told me about the big rescue... that you were there. She feels safe with you, and for me that's enough." Jax returned to cutting up the vegetables, and then he looked up suddenly. "I hope you didn't make reservations at a seafood place."

"Is she allergic?"

"No, not to seafood. Bee stings though. She always has her epi-pen in her purse," Jax advised. "Seafood places have things like lobster, which freak her out."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Also, don't get shrimp... anything that kind of looks like the animal it once was. Never calamari. _Ever._ "

"Got it," Nate replied.

"Or things that are messy or..." He stopped and returned to cutting his vegetables as his sister walked in.

"Sorry, I'm running behind. Hey, Nate."

Nate turned around and was left a little slack jawed. Delaney stood before him, hair down and in gentle waves, a copper coloured clip holding some of the hair up on the right side. She was dressed in an above-the-knee eggplant coloured dress that was tailored immaculately to fit her perfectly. The cut was simple, but she didn't need some eye-catching dress to draw attention. She wore a thin white gold watch as well as a charm bracelet on her right wrist. Her makeup was simple and flattering.

"Delaney," he finally found his voice and stood, holding onto the flowers. "You look great."

"Thanks," she replied. "Oh! Flowers!" Delaney swooped them from his hand and buried her nose in them. Now these brought a true smile to her face, a thoughtful and lovely gift. "I love flowers."

She grabbed a vase, and Jax stared. "I have a vase?"

"I got it for you, just in case."

"In case what? When am I ever going to want flowers around? They wilt and die, and then you have to clean up the mess."

"They're beautiful; they add ambiance; and obviously, the vase came in handy."

"For you."

"Shut it."

"Leave 'em, Laney. I'll take care of it. Go before you're late."

She kissed her brother's cheek. "Don't wait up."

He shot her a look of ire. "Really?"

She just laughed and grabbed her periwinkle leather handbag from the counter. She pulled on black kitten heels and still managed to be shorter than Nate. She smiled and looped her arm through his as they left.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 2009 HRS: GALLI**

Galli was a nice restaurant; its dark but cozy atmosphere drew couples and lovers. Most of the seating arrangements were small tables, just enough room for two. There were a couple of small u-shaped booths, one of which Nate had requested. When the two sat down, they pretty much had to sit side by side.

"Have you been here before?" Nate asked her.

"No, when I was living in Los Angeles, it wasn't in this area." Delaney replied, looking around at the lovely paintings on the wall. "It's nice, though."

"How long ago was it that you moved to New York?"

Delaney made a face. "I must have done the math wrong..." She cringed. " _Nine_ years ago."

He smiled. "Wasn't so long ago."

"Ages," Delaney argued a little playfully.

Their banter was broken by the appearance of their waitress who brought them water but asked what they wanted to drink. They settled on a cabernet sauvignon and waited until the waitress was gone to return to their conversation.

"So... are you going back?" He asked. He didn't like the thought of her moving to New York once again, but she had only come to Los Angeles for the funeral of a friend.

"I'm going back soon," Delaney replied. "Pack up some things, but I'm coming back. I think I'll stop in Florida on my way back, though, visit Ray and meet Jenna and Aaron. Jax needs too much help keeping everything moving on the firm here, and I need some work, so I'll stick around until we can't stand each other anymore."

"You two seem to get along really well."

"Oh, we do, but neither of us wants the other butting into our lives. We've lived separately in different states for a long time. It doesn't mean that we're any less close. Living together we're already getting on each other's nerves. We fight over shower times and the television. For now, it's okay. We're both so grateful for all that we have after everything we've been through... but we live differently and eventually we're going to want our own spaces back."

"And when that time comes?"

"Maybe I'll return to New York," Delaney said with a little shrug. " _Unless_ I have a good reason to stay. There isn't really anything left for me in New York. I have my apartment, a few rental properties in Manhattan, but my modeling contract is up."

"So, what do you want to do now?" he questioned her.

"Well, I don't know. I could be pretty much anything."

He smiled. She sounded like a child, a blank slate, with that _'I could be an astronaut, or a firefighter, or a baker'_ mentality. It was fresh, optimistic.

"Anything in mind?"

"Maybe I'll be a weather woman." She grinned over at him. "I think I could be good at it. I have the legs."

He laughed, and she beamed at him. "You? A meteorologist?"

"What, you don't think I could be?" She asked, leaning in a little bit. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they met his, her hand on his leg. "There is a high pressure system," she said, giving it a hard squeeze. Then she slowly slid her hand up, her eyes never breaking contact with his. "And a heat wave coming to southern regions," she smirked.

"The cabernet," the waitress said, bringing the bottle.

Delaney smiled and leaned away again. "Thank you."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 2121 HRS: FAIR OAKS AVENUE**

"So, you've grilled me all through dinner," Delaney said playfully as she walked beside him, her arm looped through his. "I think it's my turn."

Nate felt nervous. He felt much more comfortable learning more about her than he did with questions about himself. He didn't want to have to lie to her, but he couldn't really tell her everything either. Then again, she already knew a considerable amount.

"What is your favourite colour?"

He was a little surprised at the question. "Uh..." He never gave colours much consideration. Her bright green eyes were staring up at him curiously. "Green."

She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder as they waited for the light at the crosswalk at Oakley Street. "Do you have siblings?"

"No, I'm an only child."

"Are you close with your parents?"

"I see them when I can. I get along with them. They moved from Los Angeles a little while back. They moved to Texas; my father inherited a ranch there from one of his uncles."

"Hmm," Delaney looked him over. "You in a cowboy hat and boots."

"Oh, no."

" _Oh, yeah_! I think you could pull it off."

"I don't."

She laughed as they crossed the street.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 2155 HRS: JACKSON BENNETT RESIDENCE**

"Wow, having me home before ten," Delaney said as they stood outside of the door, her hands busy adjusting his suit jacket. "Was my brother that intimidating?"

"He's a bit of a badass," Nate responded with a grin. He knew that Jackson had taken on Trent Stadden, an armed and dangerous man, because he knew that his sister was coming home and he wouldn't allow her to be hurt. In the process, he ended up stabbed numerous times and nearly died. Nate knew he'd be in trouble if he ever hurt Delaney, not that he had the intention of doing any such thing.

Delaney was biting on her bottom lip. "So," she said softly. "I guess this is it."

They stood close together in the hall, him looking down at her, while she looked up at him. He wasn't sure what to say, what to do. He was nervous. His heart was pounding in his chest.

She tilted her head just slightly. "You going to kiss me good night, or what?"

And with that prompt, her desire clear, he closed the space between them. Their lips met lightly at first, but she pulled on the lapels of his jacket and their bodies pressed together and sparks flew.

Three loud bangs on the door and they jumped apart.

"Jackson Gage Bennett!" Delaney said her brother's full name like a curse and banged her fist just once against the door. "Piss off."

"Could you two stop making out outside of my door?"

Delaney slowly turned back to Nate. "See what I mean about us being unable to live together."

He smiled. "I hope to see you soon."

She nodded. "Call me sometime, 'kay?"

"I will."

She gave him a quick parting kiss before she disappeared inside her brother's condo. A moment later he could hear her angry voice, but the words were lost. He walked down the hall with a smile on his face.


	22. Laundry Day

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1855 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

A stroke of good luck that came in the form of green lights the entire way from the office to Angela's had him arriving earlier than he'd expected. He had even picked up some groceries for real food as opposed to the baked goods Angela kept making. Surely she had to be nearly out of flour by now, and he wasn't going to replace it either. He parked her Lexus in the garage and grabbed the groceries from the back seat.

The garage held three cars. It used to hold her motorcycle as well, but she'd gotten rid of the thing. The garage door was unlocked, and the alarm wasn't set. He shook his head as he started up the stairs. Go figure that she wouldn't keep up basic security protocols. Given that lately it hadn't mattered if her doors were locked or if her alarm was set, he understood her not being bothered. He turned and locked the garage door behind himself anyway. He paused, hearing footsteps on the stairs, and waited.

Angela turned the corner from the first level of stairs down to the second, a big basket of clothing in her arms. He cursed under his breath, set the groceries down on what had once been the service counter of Tony's Tires, and jogged up the stairs.

She peeked around the pile of clothing and cursed. "You actually got out of work on time?"

"Yeah, put a damper on your plans, didn't it?" He took the basket from her arms. Since there wasn't room to turn around easily, he walked down the stairs backwards. "What are you thinking, Ange?"

"I'm thinking that I'm nearly out of clean, comfortable clothing. Jeans aren't my friends right now. Besides, the hamper in your room... I mean the guest room was full. I figured I'd just get it done."

He smiled a little. "My room?"

"Shut up," she replied seriously. "The laundry has to be done."

"Well, then I'll go with you after I take the groceries upstairs."

"You bought groceries?"

"Yeah, I li-stay here, too." She raised an eyebrow. He put the laundry on the counter and took the groceries. "I'll be right back. Wait here. I mean it." He narrowed his eyes. She rolled hers in return and leaned against the wall, which he supposed was a sign that she was going to stay.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 1924 HRS: LAUNDROMAT**

With such a pile of laundry that Angela had brought down, and a second basket that Renko had brought down from the third floor apartment before they left, they had plenty to do. Both were tossing clothing into two different machines.

"Oh, not that." Angela reached out and pulled an article from the handful Renko had been about to throw into the washer- a white collared, button up shirt. "What are you doing putting this in with jeans?"

"It'll be fine; these jeans have been washed a hundred times," Renko replied.

Angela just stared at him incredulously for a moment before she shook her head and put the shirt in another washer where she'd been throwing all the whites. "How about you just sort the laundry properly like everyone else?"

"You're going to have like eight washers going if you keep up your oversorting."

"First of all: whites, colours, jeans and delicates is four washers. Second-"

"What delicates?"

She threw a dirty look his way. "I have some delicate shirts that I don't want ruined."

"All your shirts look the same," he noted and earned himself a quick punch in the arm. "Ow!"

She continued sorting the laundry, and he rubbed his arm before also returning to the task at hand. He paused a second and smiled, picking up a lacy swatch of black fabric. "These certainly aren't mine."

She'd just tossed a few pairs of her jeans into a machine before she looked over at him and instantly blushed. "Not a word, Renko." He only got to open his mouth before she cut him off. "Give me those," she demanded as she went to swipe them from his hands but he quickly backed up a step.

"What? You want these?" he taunted. While knowing that taunting his partner was a pretty dangerous and stupid thing to do, he just couldn't help himself. "I bet they go in the delicate cycle."

"Just goes to show how little you know about doing laundry," she responded through her teeth as she reached again. "They're hand wash only."

His hand went around her back, but he kept the lacy thing dangling from his fingers just out of her reach. "Oh, really?"

"Yes! Now give 'em!"

He relented, handing them back but tightened his arm around her, and she looked up at him. "So are those just a special pair, or do all your under-things look something like that?"

She narrowed her eyes and seemed to be deciding whether to play along with him, or put him in his place. With Angela it was coin toss. "Well," she replied, a playful smirk on her lips. He figured she'd chosen the first option. "Play your cards right and maybe you'll find out." With that she turned out of his arms and continued tossing laundry into the machines.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 2010 HRS: LAUNDROMAT**

They had transferred the majority of the laundry to dryers. A small percentage of it had been put back in the basket to be hung up when they got back to the apartment. There were a few middle-aged women talking up a storm over a soap opera while they did their laundry. A single college-aged man was tossing all of his clothing into one machine.

The two of them took up four chairs. Renko was on one. Angela was laying down across the other three, her knees up, feet on the last chair, her head on Renko's thigh. She'd been annoyed with the bun at the back of her head, so it was one of the rare times when she let her long copper hair down. His hand threaded through it. He'd expected her to tell him to 'piss off' or something of the sort, but instead she looked oddly content so he continued.

"He's going to have a bad time," Angela muttered, pointing to the college student. "Check out that red shirt. Hello, pink tighty-whiteys."

Renko shook his head. "You could say something."

"I told you how to do laundry, and you didn't listen. I'm saving my breath," she responded. "He'll learn."

They sat there quietly, with only the hum of the machines. Renko felt relaxed in the space, Angela's soft hair between his fingers. He looked down at her after a while to find she looked for once to be peacefully sleeping.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5: 2042 HRS: LAUNDROMAT**

He didn't want to wake her up, but their dryers had started to go off, and he knew once he moved she'd wake up. "Hey," he said, giving her hair a light pull. "Wake up."

Her arm went over her eyes. "No."

"No?" He asked with a smile.

"I don't wanna."

"Having a good dream?"

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "None of your damn business."

"I take that as a yes."

"Take it how you want it."

She looked over at him, and he smiled lewdly, his eyebrows jumping in vulgar suggestion.

She flushed and swatted his arm half-heartedly. "That isn't what I mean and you damn well know it. Get your mind out of the gutter."

He laughed and helped her to her feet. "Come on, let's get folding."

She followed him with a yawn. Honestly, despite lying across plastic chairs and being in a public laundromat, it had likely been the best bit of sleep she'd had in a while. While she'd never tell him, she always slept better when Renko was close by. Having him in the apartment used to be enough to keep her mind at peace, but recent nightmares while he was around had her re-evaluating. Now she seemed to sleep best when she was in some way touching him. She frowned, finding the entire situation bothersome.

He opened the first of the dryers, and together they got to work folding the clothing. "You're doing it wrong," Angela said, looking at how Renko was folding a t-shirt. Angela folded both arms back, then the shirt into thirds and then into halves.

Renko folded the shirt in half, folded the arms back and then in half. "Does it really make a difference?"

"Yes," Angela replied. Her drawers and closets were kept impeccably neat. If you kept it organized in the first place, you could always find what you wanted and didn't have to take it all apart to re-organize every week.

He couldn't seem to get her method to work to her satisfaction, so she pushed a pair of jeans into his hand and took her bulky sweater to do it herself. "You're bossy," he muttered half-heartedly. She glanced over at him, smiled a bit and continued folding.


	23. The Love of Family

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0400 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Like a child on Christmas morning, Nell sprung from bed at the sound of her alarm. She was eager for the day. Her parents, Susan and Alan, her sister Chloe and brother-in-law Christian would be landing at LAX at approximately six; her brother Steven would be landing around six-forty.

She quickly showered and blow-dried her hair, which was a nice red from when she'd dyed it the night before. She was glad it had turned out well. Once she had ended up with orange hair and that was not what she wanted. Ever.

When she returned to the bedroom, Callen was pulling on a pair of jeans. He smiled over at her. "Nice towel."

"Leave it," she responded with authority and a pointed finger. "We don't have time for any hanky-panky."

Callen smiled. "There is always time for... hanky-panky."

"G."

"Okay, okay. I'm going to go put the toaster back together."

"What? You took it apart? _Again?_ "

He gave her a kiss on the cheek, grabbed a shirt from the closet and left the room.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0605 HRS: LAX**

Callen had a little smile on his face. He was sitting on one of the benches while Nell was standing on her tiptoes trying to see her family. He loved seeing her this excited. She couldn't sit still; she was kind of bouncing in place as she tried to see over people taller than her.

"I see them!" She told him. "Mom! Dad!" Nell waved as high as she could, trying to get their attention.

Callen stood and went to her side. He could see Susan and Alan coming their way; a few steps behind was a very pregnant Chloe with her husband Christian walking in step beside her. There was a great deal of excitement as everyone converged together. There were hugs and tears, handshakes and 'how have you beens'?

Chloe pulled Callen into a hug. "Good job with that ring, Greg," she said cheerfully with a smile.

"Well," he said a little teasingly. "I just thought to myself, what would Chloe do?"

She laughed and then lit up and grabbed his hand. "Feel this," she said, putting his hand to her belly. "She started kicking up a storm once you started talking."

"He," Christian corrected quickly.

"You two still arguing over that?" Nell asked, stepping out of her brother-in-law's friendly hug.

"Everyday," Christian responded happily.

Callen was just in shock feeling the baby moving inside of Chloe. He couldn't help the big smile that came upon his face. His eyes found Nell's, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel their baby inside of her. The thought was surprising to him but not unwelcome.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0650 HRS: LAX**

"Hey!" Nell spotted her brother Steven first and disappeared into the crowd of people. She ran into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Hey, Steve!"

"Hey, Nelly-Belly."

"Oh, God," she groaned and then laughed. "Please, none of that."

"What kind of brother would I be if I didn't use embarrassing nicknames?"

"A good one," Nell responded quickly as the rest of the family caught up.

"Good to see you, kid," Alan greeted, pulling the eldest of the Jones children in for a hug.

"Hey, Dad," Steven replied. He was pulled down by his mother next and hugged tightly. "Hi, Mom."

"How's George?" she asked as Steven and Callen shook hands.

"He's good. He wanted to come along but he's busy at the restaurant..." He got a little derailed when his eyes went to his youngest sister. "Oh, my God!" He smiled and pulled Chloe in for a hug. "How much longer?"

"Five weeks," Chloe beamed, hugging her brother back. Though all three of the Jones children there had been adopted, it didn't make them any less family.

Steven continued asking Chloe questions about names and the nursery and such, while the group headed toward the parking lot where both Nell's Mini Cooper and Callen's Jaguar were located.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0850 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Traffic had been unkind on the way back to the house. Callen had ended up with Chloe in the front seat beside him, her husband and Steven in the back, while Nell drove her parents. The conversation had flown easily; Chloe and Steven both were chatty sorts, occasionally pulling either Christian or Callen into the mix with a question or a teasing comment. Callen parked the car. A few seconds later Nell pulled in behind him.

The luggage was moved from the car to the house. Callen flipped through his keys to find the house one.

"This is such a quaint house," Susan commented, looking at the strong black pot that was filled with lovely and fragrant flowers. It was a lovely mix of the two people who lived beyond it.

"We like it," Nell said, smiling up at Callen while he put the key in the lock and gave it a turn.

They gave a quick tour of the place. Chloe and Christian took the front facing guest room; Susan and Alan took the back room; and Steven had the pullout couch.

While everyone was getting settled, Callen and Nell took to making breakfast. Chloe made her way in a few minutes later and settled at the table by the window. "This is a pretty nice place," she commented. "Plenty of space, lots of rooms."

Nell knew where her sister was going with this line of conversation. " _Chloe_!" She said her younger sister's name like a warning.

"I'm just saying." Chloe put her hands up. "I just think you guys would make such great parents."

Nell continued cracking eggs, unsure of what to say.

"Someday," Callen said as he threw some bacon into a skillet. Nell looked up at him. He smiled a bit and shrugged. "What?"

She smiled, too. "Nothing."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0910 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Everyone was around the little table, and Nell looked over at her fiancé. "I think we may need to invest in a larger table."

"I'm thinking you might be right," Callen replied, bumping elbows with Christian. "Sorry."

"No problem," Christian responded with a good-natured grin.

The phone rang. Both Callen and Nell froze. She looked over at him, and he sighed, excusing himself from the table to go get the one on the wall in the kitchen. He was praying it wasn't work when he answered. "Callen."

" _Hope I didn't wake you."_

"Na, been up for hours," Callen leaned against the counter. He shot a smile Nell's way so she'd know it wasn't work. "What's going on, Jethro?"

" _Remember that conference I warned you about?"_

"Yeah."

" _It's on Wednesday, clerical error where some idiot put the twenty-eighth instead of the eighth. Everyone is getting the call today, told Vance I'd call you."_

"The eighth? Of this month."

" _Yeah."_

Callen ran his hand over his head and muttered about paper pushers in Russian under his breath. "Alright," he said, realizing there wasn't anything he could do about it. "I'll get my flight booked today then."

There was some talking on the other end. _"Alright,"_ Gibbs said after a few seconds. _"Grab your gear! Got to go, G, fresh body."_

"Alright, have a good one."

" _You, too."_

"What was that all about?" Nell demanded before he even could hang up the phone.

"That conference in DC. It's on Wednesday."

"I thought it wasn't until the end of the month."

"So did everyone else," Callen replied, putting the phone back in the cradle. "Clerical error. All the speakers will be there on the eighth."

"You've got to be kidding me," Nell muttered miserably.

"I wish," Callen replied. "Those conferences are drier than the Atacama desert."

She pouted. "But..."

"Nell, it's one day. I'll fly out, do the conference, catch a red-eye and be home before you wake up the next morning."

"Oh! We could do dress shopping that day," Chloe said excitedly. "He can't be there for that anyway!"

"Have you thought about what cut you want?" Steven asked, spearing eggs with his fork.

"I've flipped through some magazines," Nell responded, pushing a strip of bacon around on her plate only to have Callen take it. She glared at him, but he just grinned in return.

"Those will give you a nice place to start," Susan said. "We should give them a look after breakfast."

"I think a-owh! Steven!" Chloe glared at her brother.

"Greg is right there. You can't get into specifics, and I didn't even kick you that hard. Wuss."

"You're the wuss," Chloe muttered back lamely.

"Nice to see you still don't have any good comebacks."

"Children." Alan gave both of his children a few second stare down.


	24. Doctor's Orders

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 0933 HRS: DR ZHU'S OFFICE**

Mike Renko flipped through increasingly terrifying medical pamphlets. He put the latest one down and started to tap his foot while he waited. He'd driven Angela for her appointment. His team got Mondays and Tuesdays off given that no case came up and they didn't get called in, so he really didn't have anywhere to be at that hour on a Monday anyway.

There were paintings on the wall of the office. Dull, lifeless watercolours. The paint in the waiting room was beige. The chairs were wooden. They served their purpose but were uncomfortable and plain. The table in the middle was the same wood as the chairs, covered with issues of Readers Digest, medical pamphlets, and donation requests for the Heart And Stroke into which he'd put a five-dollar bill that had been going to be his coffee money.

He ran his hand through his hair, continuing to impatiently tap his foot. He hoped that Angela was okay. Unlike the majority of agents, she actually didn't kick up a fuss when she had an appointment. No trying to push the date back, no insisting she was fine, no cancelling it and trying to con Hetty into taking her back. It was actually rather surprising. He'd been expecting her to kick up a big fuss, especially considering she hadn't listened to half of the orders Doctor Zhu had given her.

The door down the hall opened and Doctor Zhu emerged and talked to his secretary and nurse Mrs. Beattie. A moment later Doctor Zhu came over to Renko who looked up questioningly. "She okay?" he asked.

"Did she listen to a single thing I told her?"

"Well..." Renko responded. "She took all the anti-inflammatory medication."

"Pain meds?"

"For the first few days."

Zhu sighed. "Agents," he muttered under his breath.

Renko couldn't help but smirk. He often felt bad for the trusted doctor, an old friend of Hetty's who was entrusted with the medical files of the OSP personnel. Agents were pretty bad patients.

"You're her partner, right?"

"Yeah," Renko replied.

"And team leader?"

Renko nodded.

"Then I'm telling you what you'll hear from Hetty when I give her a call. She's staying on medical leave for at least another week. Her body is healing well, but I can tell the stress she's continuously putting on her body is taking its toll. You need to keep her off her feet. She needs to be resting."

Renko stared at the doctor. "Yeah, those orders worked real well the first time around."

"Well, maybe she'll listen to you rather than me. She must listen to you in the field."

Renko looked at his feet to try and hide the smirk. "Yeah, sure."

Zhu shook his head. "Listen, Mr. Renko, your partner is wounded. She is pushing her body too far. Eventually she's going to cause more damage. She needs to let her body heal."

"I know, Doc," Renko replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I try, and when I'm around I can get her to sit, I can lift the things for her but when I'm at work she's not following orders. I can't babysit her for the next week."

"Well, if neither of us can talk sense into her, she's going to end up on an extended leave."

Renko cursed under his breath when Doctor Zhu was down the hall, returning to his patient.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1011 HRS: I-5**

Traffic was heavy; they'd been at a crawl and now it was stop and go, much to the annoyance of both Renko and Angela. He kept his foot on the brake and tried to look ahead, but there were cars as far as the eye could see. "Damn it," he muttered. Renko looked over at his partner. She looked pissed-arms crossed over her chest, lips pressed into a thin angry line, jaw tight, eyes locked dead ahead.

He'd already known the full extent of her injuries, and while Doctor Zhu had given her permission to drive again, he wasn't signing off on her returning to work. "You had to know this was going to be the outcome. I-"

"If you say 'I told you so' I'll strangle you with your seatbelt."

"Okay, I won't," he replied with a shrug. The last thing he needed was to be in a fight with his partner while they were trapped in traffic.

Silence took over the car for a good ten minutes as the car inched toward the exit, because he'd rather take the 'long way' than stay on the highway any longer. Angela reached for the radio switch but he swatted her hand away. She slowly turned to glare at him.

"Driver rules."

"It's my car," Angela barked in return.

"We need to talk."

Angela ran her hand over her face and huffed out a breath. "About?"

He flicked on his blinker, honked at a bullheaded driver and finally merged into the exit lane. He waited a minute, trying to think of the best way to put it.

"Well," Angela's impatience got the best of her.

Renko took a left hand turn and checked his mirrors and the blind spot before switching lanes. "About you, Ange." He kept his eyes forward. "Doctor Zhu came out to talk to me."

"What happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?"

"Well, you're a federal agent, so your medical files go to Hetty. Since I'm team leader I also get to know. I'm your partner, Ange. Why... why couldn't you just sit around and watch television or read a book or- do a puzzle, something that didn't involve physical activity?"

She said nothing, just turned away from him and looked out the window. His grip on the steering wheel tightened in anger.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1054 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Renko had the keys to his own car in his hand and had intended on leaving Angela at her place and heading out... doing something. She'd been silent most of the car ride back to her place. He wasn't entirely certain where they stood at the moment and didn't want to impose. It's not like his presence would actually make her listen to the doctor's orders anyway.

"I think...," she said, breaking the silence as she stood unlocking the door from the garage into the building. "I think you need to see something."

"See what?"

She didn't reply; she just walked through the door and left it open. He huffed out a breath, but followed. He caught up with her at the top of the stairs where she unlocked the door to the third floor, her apartment.

Sugar was already at the door excitedly rubbing against Angela, nosing the palm of her hand until Angela pet her. Sugar then went to Renko and did the same. He scratched behind her ears, and her tail thumped against the floor happily. Renko's eyes were on his partner though, as Angela walked into the kitchen, opened a drawer and pulled out a set of her keys, removing one from the ring.

Angela stared at the key a second, turned and walked over to Renko. She grabbed one of his hands, turned it so it was palm up and put the key in his hand. "This is to the second floor." He looked at the key, and then to Angela with the same degree of curiosity. "I hope it gives you some measure of understanding."

"You want me to open it."

"No, I just want you to stare at the key," she responded dryly, her eyes narrowing.

"You coming with me?"

She shook her head immediately. "No."

Curious, he left the third floor, shutting the door behind him. He took the stairs to the second floor landing and stared at the plain door. She'd told him once she'd intended on making it into a gym room when she finished the renovations upstairs. He couldn't recall if she'd ever told him what she used it for now- he always figured storage.

He inserted the key and turned it, hearing the dead-bolt turn over. He left the key in the lock and opened the door.

The large space was mostly empty except for a few boxes scattered around. Frowning, he walked to the biggest box over to the left. It was brown, something ordered if the piece of paper taped to it was any indication. The box was still sealed; she hadn't opened it. He looked at the details on the delivery slip. He grimaced as he read. The box contained a mahogany crib.

He sat down on the dusty floor to get into the next box. The cardboard was worn; the top had been open and closed many times. He pulled the flaps and looked inside. Newspaper surrounded the objects. He took the top one out and unwrapped it. A younger Angela was in the picture, green cargo pants, dusty beige long-sleeved shirt, semi-automatic rifle strapped over her shoulder. To her side was Pandora dressed the same. Both women were laughing at something as they stood in the desert, the sun beating down on them. He set the picture carefully to the side.

He unwrapped another photograph. This one was of her and Griffin in their full gear, sitting by a fire. His arm was around her shoulder and, while her eyes were narrowed, she had a smile on her face. Despite the sudden rise in anger he set it aside gently.

The next picture was a teenage Angela sitting in the grass. No tattoos or scars yet on her skin. She was sitting beside a girl who appeared to be the same age, blonde hair, green eyes. Both girls wore long socks, black shoes, a black, red and white kilt and a white collared shirt, both sitting on sweaters that appeared to complete a school uniform. This picture he took out of the frame and looked at the back. The label of the paper was on the back, but so was Angela's writing. 'Evelyn and I-1997.' He figured from the date that she was in high school when it had been taken. He replaced the back and set it to the side.

There were other odds and ends in the box—an expensive looking snow globe, an old book that had flowers pressed inside and a jewelry box that contained a small golden cross. He put those items back in the box and continued looking around.

There were two boxes off to the side. Shipping papers were attached to them as well but the papers didn't say the contents, just an order code. Curiosity got the better of him. He crouched down and opened the seals on both boxes and opened the first. Little white shoes. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before he opened them again and pushed off the top of the second box. Little black shoes.

He stood back to his full height and paced a bit. There was one more box. He paused in his pacing and stared at it. She'd given him the key for a reason. She wanted him to understand. He walked over and opened the box. Inside were candles. Many of them—tea lights, pillars, votives, all white, none had been burnt at all. He had no idea what the candles meant but knew without a doubt that they meant something to her.

She kept her past in boxes in a room she kept under lock and key. Things she could not stand to look at, nor could she rid herself of the memories they represented. He ran his hand over the dusty crib box and understood.

He left the room, locked it behind himself and took the key with him as he walked up the stairs and back to the third floor. Sugar ran over once again and ran around him and licked his hand before running back over to Angela who was busying herself in the kitchen preparing lunch.

She didn't look at him; instead she just continued to slice a tomato for sandwiches. "Do you understand?"

"I know you don't want to deal with those memories," Renko said walking over to her, leaning his back against the counter beside her.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She shook her head and put the tomato slices on the sandwich. She stood still staring down at the counter before she finally turned to him. "I sit, read, my mind veers of and I'm thinking about what life might have been like if I hadn't... lost my child. I try to relax and I just get angry thinking about the betrayal of my old team. I try to sleep and..," she cursed softly, her eyes dropping back to the counter. "The guilt overwhelms me."

"You need to move on," he said as softly as possible.

Her laugh was short, bitter. "And how do I do that? Huh?" She turned to him, her hands placed on her hips, a spark of anger in her stance. "How does one get past loss? Guilt? How, Mike?"

"I can't tell you that." If he had an answer, he'd give it to her but he didn't know what to say to her. "You need to talk to Nate."

"I don't want to talk to Nate," she argued. "I don't know Nate. You're my partner. I trust you."

He understood that trust, the wounds not just physical, she was laying the emotional ones in front of him. "Ange-"

"I need to get back to work," her voice was tight, anger slipping into her voice. It had always easier for her to be angry then sad.

"You can't until you pass the psych evaluation," he reasoned calmly. "One way or another you'll have to talk to Nate. Let him help you. It's what he's here for." He did understand her need for work though. To busy her hands, her mind on a task that demands her attention, to keep out the distractions, the ghosts of the past. He understood a hell of a lot better then she might think.

She shook her head. "I can't let it go," she said tersely, her body wound tightly hands in fists at her side.

"I'm not asking you to forget, Ange," he said, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. "I'm asking you... to work it out." She was silent but he could feel her resistance to the idea. "If you want, I can go to the preliminary session with you." Her eyes found his, her eyebrows drawn down suspiciously. "I said if you want."

Her lips were pressed together. She shrugged. "Not sure if that would make it better or worse."

"Well... whatever you decide. I'm here for you."

"I know," and with that came the slightest of smiles.


	25. Lunch Break

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1200 HRS: COOK BOOK NOOK**

Kensi walked into the Cook Book Nook. A bell above the door jingled. She paused to take a look around. To the left there sat a wonderful mahogany desk that had a register sitting on top, an elderly woman working behind it. Over to the right the walls were lined with shelves, stocked full with cookbooks. The scent of home cooking wafted from straight ahead, and she followed it into the little café where a book was being promoted. The café's menu changed weekly, with each menu item from a different chapter of the currently-featured book. It was an interesting marketing scheme, and Kensi liked the constantly-rotating menu which enabled her to try something new every time.

Her mother sat by the window. For a moment Kensi was in another time, another place-the home of her childhood, her mother sitting at the little table by the window drinking her morning coffee. She would hear little Kensi come in and turn to smile. Kensi shook her head, clearing the memory. Julia turned and smiled; it made Kensi feel warm and loved as it had when she'd been a little girl.

Julia stood when Kensi approached, and the two women hugged. "It's so good to see you, Kensi."

"Good to see you too, Mom," she replied. "Have you ordered? Were you waiting long?"

"No, not yet. Just the coffee," her mother responded as she sat back down. "How was your morning?"

"Tedious," Kensi replied, sitting across from her mother, waiting for the lone waitress to come around. "A lot of paperwork from a past case." Her mother had been involved in a case once, and thus knew about Kensi's job. Kensi kept her answers non-specific when her mother asked about it though.

Julia let out a little sigh of relief. It scared her that her daughter had such a dangerous job, but their relationship was a little rocky after all the years so she didn't say much about it. Julia took a sip of her coffee. "When do you need to be back?"

"I have an hour," Kensi replied. She was caught up on her paperwork, and Deeks had offered to clean the armory alone so she could take a longer lunch break. As long as they didn't get a case, she'd have the full hour.

The waitress came around but neither woman had even bothered to look at the menu. Julia had closed her eyes and pointed to decide her order.

"Leaving it to fate?" Kensi had asked with a grin.

"I live dangerously," Julia replied with a laugh.

Kensi wanted something warm, and the aroma of the chunky tomato soup had her salivating. She ordered a coffee with it, and the waitress left them once again.

"It's been a while since we talked," Julia said a little sadly. "What have you been up to?"

"Work mostly," Kensi replied. She turned as the waitress returned with her steaming hot cup of coffee. "Thanks." Kensi grabbed a few sugar packets and ripped the tops, dumping the contents into her drink. "A friend of mine and his girlfriend are expecting."

Julia's face lit up. "Oh, a baby, how wonderful!"

Kensi nodded, thinking about Eric and Bethany. "They are really happy."

Julia picked up her mug and brought it to her lips but didn't drink. "And how's Marty?' Kensi's eyes widened for a second, and Julia hid her smile with her mug.

"He's fine," she said. Her heart beat just a little faster at the mention of her partner's name.

"That's good. He's such a nice young man."

"He's alright," Kensi agreed with a small smile.

"He's more than alright," Julia pushed. "Handsome, funny, smart."

Kensi said nothing in return. She looked back over her shoulder to see the waitress coming with her bowl of soup and the butter chickpea curry that her mother had ordered. Kensi thanked the waitress and picked up her spoon. Both women tried out their meals; the first few bites passed in silence.

"He's quite the catch," Julia picked right up where she had left off.

Kensi bought herself a moment by taking another mouthful of soup. She hadn't mentioned to her mother that she and Deeks were seeing each other outside of work. They were keeping it a secret from the team, and part of her thought it would be unfair to tell her mother while keeping them in the dark. "If you're into that shaggy surfer thing."

Julia smiled. "Which you are."

Kensi's dark eyes narrowed. "We're partners."

"Oh, I know. _Partners_." The way her mother said the word insinuated she suspected that Kensi and Deeks were more than friends.

"Mom," Kensi dropped her tone into a low warning, her eyes beseeching. "Please."

Julia's mouth dropped open a little but she gave a small smile. "Alright. I'll drop it."

The two shared a smile and continued eating their meal.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1302 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Kensi paused in the doorway of the armory. Deeks was wiping down the glass casing, humming to himself. He turned as if he sensed her there, and he shot her a winning smile. "Hey, how did lunch go?"

"Good," Kensi replied, walking in holding up a white bag. "Brought you some soup. It's delicious."

He tossed the rag aside and took the bag. He pulled out the take-out bowl and took off the lid. His eyes skipped by her up to the camera in the corner. "Thank you."

She smiled when he shot a glare at the camera before retrieving the plastic spoon from the bottom of the bag. She knew he would have thanked her differently if that camera hadn't been watching.

"So," he said, stirring the chunky tomato soup. "What did you and your mother talk about?"

"Oh, you know," Kensi dodged as she turned on her heel. "Girl stuff."

He watched her hips as she walked away. "Me, then," he called to her a second after she disappeared around the corner but he heard her laugh. He chuckled to himself, knowing he was right.


	26. Lesson Learned

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1404 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

It took a while but Renko finally convinced Angela to go in and talk to Nate. She sat in the office with Nate. He kept their conversation light by asking her simple questions-what do you like to do in your spare time, how's your dog, do you like the weather in Los Angeles?

She knew he was trying to make her comfortable, and after an hour of answering such baseline questions he let her go with a parting comment. "Have you ever completed a Rubik's cube?"

She shook her head.

"Of course. You work more with people." He picked up the multi-coloured cube. "Less with this kind of mind game."

Her chin lifted defiantly; her grey eyes narrowed in warning. "Are you insinuating I'm not smart enough to figure it out?"

"I didn't mean anything," he said quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

She crossed her arms over her chest, still clearly miffed. "You just have to get all the colours on the same side."

"You can take it with you." He held it out, and she took it from his hand. "I have to figure out my schedule for this week. I'll call with your next appointment."

Dismissed, she took the Rubik's cube with her and started fiddling with it as she walked down the hallway.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1409 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Renko put weights on the barbell that rested on the hooks of the preacher bench in the gym. He quickly checked to make sure the weights were secure before walking around the padded armrest. He grabbed the bar, placed his elbows on the padded area and sat down. The radio was playing some pop song. He looked around for whoever had turned the radio on but he was the only one there. He thought briefly about changing it, but admittedly it was kind of catchy so he left it. He exhaled as he lowered both arms until they were fully extended. The weights were a few pounds heavier than the week before, and he knew he'd be feeling it later. Inhaling, he pulled the bar back up to the starting position.

During his third set of eight reps, Jessica came into the gym. Her dark grey yoga pants and green Adidas shirt hugged her body, showing off a trim figure. Her eyes met his, and he lowered the barbell back onto the hooks of the preacher bench.

He knew he had been pretty rough on her the day before and that he needed to be the one to fix things. They were now temporary partners, and he worried over the impact his previous actions would have on their ability to work together, especially since the responsibility of being her training agent weighed strictly on his shoulders.

"Hey." He smiled as he broke the ice between them.

"Sir," she responded coolly, obviously still miffed by his sharp orders the day before.

He winced. He didn't want there to be bad blood between them. Hetty had entrusted her training and orientation to NCIS:OSP to him, and he felt a stab of guilt at making her feel so unwelcome. He wanted to make it right but at the same time he needed to make sure his orders were respected and followed. "Look," he started. "About the other day-"

"Forget it," she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"No," he replied seriously. "I was out of line. I'm sorry."

She stared at him, surprised by his apology. She gave a sharp nod. "Apology accepted."

He shot her a smile. "And none of that 'sir' stuff," he said, walking closer to her. "The team either calls me Mike or Renko. You're welcome to either."

Finally, she cracked a smile. "Kimi refers to you as 'The Boss Man.'"

"Only when I'm not around," he replied, keeping his tone light and friendly. Occasionally Kimi did call him 'boss' but her affectionate manner kept him from saying anything about it. From her it was almost a nickname.

"Alright, Mike, I need a punching bag if you're interested," she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the sparring mats.

"Alright, Jess. Let's see what you're made of."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1435 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Angela sat on the chair behind her partner's desk. She had both feet moving as she kept the chair turning around and around. Her desk had been taken over by Jessica's belongings-a little calendar with cute kittens, a glass mosaic penholder, a big calendar on which blocks were marked with fancy cursive and colour-coded highlighter. Angela didn't even feel comfortable sitting at her own desk, but she had no problem taking over her partner's space.

She had most of the blue to one side, but nothing else was lining up on the Rubik's cube. She found it incredibly frustrating. Her top teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she worked at turning the sections. She stopped turned the cube over in her hands trying to work out her next moves but she didn't have any idea about how to solve the thing. Stubborn by nature, Angela continued to work on the cube, refusing to return to Nate and tell him she couldn't do it.

The office area was quiet; she was alone. Technically speaking their team had Mondays and Tuesdays off, but they were always on call. She knew Cooper occasionally came in on days off to use the gym for a few hours. Faraday came in for that same reason or to do paperwork, which he hated to fall behind on.

Renko had driven her in. She'd debated the entire drive over whether to bring him into her appointment with Nate or not. She decided it would be best to go it alone. It's not that she didn't trust her partner nor did she wish to keep anything from him but she was familiar with a bit of psychology from the courses she'd taken while a negotiator. She knew that the operational psychologist would want to be able to get a read on her without any outside influences.

She heard footsteps and tried to place them. Quick, efficient strides. Not someone looking around, unsure of the direction they were going. The back corridors of OSP were a bit of a maze; no one stumbled upon their office without knowing exactly where they were going.

When Noah Faraday walked in, she wasn't surprised. "Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he responded.

"You do know that you don't have to work today."

"I do if I want to get paid," he replied, standing by his desk as he flipped through the files in his inbox until he found the one he was looking for. "I haven't filed my hour forms yet." He sat down behind his desk, grabbed a pencil right handed and started filling it out.

Angela's eyes returned to the problem in her hands. All the yellow were on one side but it completely messed up all the progress she'd made with the blue. She let out a quiet curse and looked up when she heard a tapping noise. Faraday had reached over and tapped on the colourful Mason jar on Cooper's desk. The swear jar.

She glared at him. "Really?"

"If I have to put money in it, so do you."

She rolled her eyes, pulled out a one and walked over, slipping it into the cut out at the top. She picked it up and shook it. It didn't sound like there were many bills inside. "I wonder what she does with the money." She put the swear jar back down on Cooper's desk.

Faraday shrugged. "I have no idea." He continued writing for a moment before pausing to look at her. "So, how are you feeling?"

She froze for a moment. Sighing, she lowered her arms and set the cube down on Cooper's desk. "I'm alright. Doctor Zhu says I'm healing but I'm slowing the process by doing things I shouldn't be. Nate is going to set me up with another appointment where I'm sure he'll be pushier than he was this time."

Faraday nodded and sat back in his chair. "You should listen to them. They know what they're talking about."

Angela shrugged. She had no desire to go into details as to why she just couldn't sit still and do nothing. She frowned and then looked at the Rubik's cube. "Son of a bitch."

He smiled, reached past her and tapped on the jar again. She glared but put the dollar in.

"So, what was that for?" he asked.

She picked up the colourful cube. "Nate."

"I don't know his mother, but I'm sure she's a nice lady," Faraday said, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

"You're a smartass."

"Does smartass count as a curse?" He wondered out loud.

"I don't think so, but if it did we both said it."

"We'll ignore it then," he said, picking up the pencil again and starting to write. "So, what about Nate?"

She watched for a second. "I swear a minute ago you were writing with your right hand."

"So?"

"Now you're writing with your left."

"Ambidextrous."

"Really?"

He signed the bottom of the paper and put the pencil back with the others. "Yeah, it's probably why I own the record here for offhanded shot. I don't really have an 'offhand.' Except with scissors," he mused. "Can't use right-handed scissors to save my life." He sat back in the chair and grinned at her. "You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" she said, sounding surprised.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "No. You didn't. What about Nate has you ticked?"

"Not ticked," she replied with a sigh. "Not really." She picked up the Rubik's cube. "Just came to a conclusion about something." She had been sitting or walking casually for a half hour. No heavy lifting, no straining, no pushing herself. Since the appointment she'd been either sitting down relaxed or walking around with nothing more than the cube puzzle. He had used her inability to turn down a challenge against her.

He nodded at the cube. "Did he give you that?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you been working on it?"

Her eyes narrowed in warning. "A half hour."

He nodded and kept a straight face. "Challenging?"

"Well, I haven't completed it," she responded irritably.

Faraday looked at the cube for a second before looking back up at Angela. "It doesn't look that hard."

"Oh, yeah?" Her irritability and frustration getting the better of her. "Bet you couldn't do it!"

"How much and how long do I get?"

"Ten dollars and ten minutes."

He considered a moment as he stared at the cube. "Twenty dollars if I can do it in five."

She smiled. Money in the bag. "You're on."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1436 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Renko and Jessica paused in their sparring session for water. "How long have you been studying Aikido?" He had pinned her technique within the first few minutes of their match up. Aikido uses the momentum of the opponent against them. He had to change up his technique to keep out of her throws and locks.

"Started when I was a kid," she responded before taking a sip of water. "How about you?" She'd known a few minutes in that he was well-versed in Aikido. Not many were able to get out of her pronating wristlock once she had it locked. She knew deep down he'd let her put him into the lock, almost as if testing her form.

"A couple of years ago."

"Really?" she sounded surprised. "You're really good for someone who has only been at it for a few years."

"I've studied various martial arts since my early twenties," he replied. "Knowing others helps when you go to learn a new one."

She nodded. "How many do you know?"

He just smiled. "Want to get back to it?"

"You're really not going to tell me?" she asked with a playful smile.

"Where is the fun in that?"

Jessica shook her head but followed him back to the mats.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1441 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

"You have got to be kidding me," Angela said as she marveled at the cube in her hands. Every colour was in its proper place.

Faraday smiled triumphantly. "Twenty bucks," he said, holding his hand out.

Angela's lips pressed angrily into a fine line but she wouldn't welch on the bet. She stood, pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and slapped it into his hand. "How did you do that?"

Faraday didn't answer. He just smiled, stood up and took the cube back. For a second she thought he would brag but instead he started to turn the pieces again. She tried to keep up with the moves but soon enough it was back to being a jumbled mess. "Nate gave you this to keep you occupied, didn't he?"

She didn't answer, just glared at him.

His cocky grin fell from his face, and he put a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to the doctors," he said softly. He always seemed to be in 'agent' mode so realizing he could be so disarming startled Angela. "I miss you around here." He tapped the underside of her chin in an affectionate manner. "So does the rest of the team. Do do us all a favour and get well. Okay?"

She stared; her mind struggling to process Faraday without all the walls he usually had up. Here he laid them down to help out a teammate, and she cursed herself. How often did they have to prove that they were there for her? Guilt gnawed on her insides. If not for herself, she needed to get well for them. She nodded.

"Good." He took her hand, turned it palm up and returned the cube to her. "Now, I have to get this to Hetty," he said, waving the slip of paper. "You need a ride?"

She shook her head. "I'm allowed to drive but I'm waiting for Mike. He's in the gym."

"Alright," he said. "Take care of yourself."

She nodded in return.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1455 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Angela didn't have much for patience. Sick of being in the office, and even more sick of playing with the Rubik's cube, she went to find Renko. She hoped that he had stayed in the gym since she didn't want to search the building for him. She pushed open the door to find Renko and Jessica on the sparring mats, grappling. He looked over at her when the doors shut. That momentary distraction enabled Jessica to get him into a reverse triangle choke, her legs cutting off his airway. He quickly tapped out.

Jessica released him and sat back. "Your Jiu Jitsu needs work."

He gave her a distracted smile as he got back to his feet, and she followed suit. She followed his eyes to Angela and stood a little straighter, determined not to be intimidated by the woman.

"Don't let me stop you," Angela said, her voice cold as ice.

"Ange." Renko's tone was a warning in its own right.

"My dog is at home. I can't leave her in there all day. I just want to know when you'll be done."

"I'll grab a shower. Give me ten."

Angela nodded, turned on her heel and left.

"She hates me," Jessica commented.

"She doesn't know you. She's had a rough…" Few days, few weeks, few months… hell a few years. He shook his head. "I'll talk to her."

"No." Jessica shook her head. "You shouldn't be put in a position to be a buffer between us. We'll either work it out or have it out. One way or another, it isn't your problem."

"You're both on my team. That makes it my problem," Renko replied. Some days he wondered what possessed him to take the position as a Special Agent-in-Charge in the first place. "I'll see you Wednesday."

She nodded in return. "Bright and early."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1458 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Jessica found Angela just outside of the main entrance to the office. Still in her athletic gear she pushed herself forward. "Hey," she said, catching the older woman's attention.

Angela pushed away from the wall of the building and turned to face the probationary agent. "What?"

"I just wanted to say hello," Jessica replied. "We got off on the wrong foot. I thought maybe we could just start over." Angela eyed the younger girl with calculating eyes. Jessica put out her left hand. "I'm Jessica Sterling."

Angela frowned. Jessica was being the bigger person, putting aside everything that happened for the sake of the team. If Angela resisted, she'd be the one in the wrong. _Again_. It absolutely galled her. She put her hand in Jessica's and shook once. "Angela Mercer."

Renko was surprised by the scene he found when he came out of the office. Jessica and Angela shaking hands. Jessica appeared victorious. Angela looked annoyed. "You lovely ladies getting along?" he asked, breaking the tension that had formed as he walked over.

"It's a start," Jessica decided.

Angela got halfway through an eye roll before she controlled her tell. "We going?" she asked, looking at Renko.

He sighed; clearly Angela was still not happy about Jessica. "Yeah, let's go."

"Bye, Mike," Jessica waved. "And it was nice to meet you, Angela."

Angela bristled and said nothing in return. Renko returned the wave and kept going.

"She's trying," Renko said when they were out of earshot.

Angela didn't hide the eye roll this time around and kept walking.


	27. Venice Beach

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1623 HRS: VENICE BEACH**

Nell's fingers tapped away at the keyboard on her phone. Callen's arm around her shoulders guided her through the crowd so she wouldn't bump into anyone. The sights and sounds of Venice Beach always drew the tourists, so Nell and Callen figured they should take the Jones family there.

"Who are you texting there, Nelly-Belly?" Steven asked as he turned to check out some guy. Chloe swatted him on the back of the head, her eyes narrowing at her brother in warning.

"Angela. She said she knows a few florists in the area," Nell replied. "She said she'd talk to them about the wedding for me, figure out which ones are in our price range and can do the work I want."

"What kind of flowers are you thinking about?" Chloe asked as she held her husband's hand while they walked. The girls started to talk about colour choices and bouquet styles.

Callen led the group toward a collection of food stands since no one had eaten since eleven. "You want the veggie cheese fries?" Callen asked his fiancée.

Nell smiled. "I feel like I'm growing predictable."

"I think of it as dependable," Callen replied.

"Aww, so cute," Christian teased and earned himself a swat from his wife.

"Nell, where are the washrooms?" Chloe asked, looking around for a sign.

"I'll show you," Nell replied, sticking her phone back in her cross-body bag.

"Might as well go with you girls," Susan said. "Alan, get me pizza."

"Yes, ma'am," Alan responded with an amused grin.

"Chlo, what do you want?" Christian asked.

"Umm…" The pregnant woman looked around at her options as she did a little dance in place. "Just get me what Nell's having. I trust her judgment."

The three women broke off, leaving the four men behind to go to the various food carts before they reconvened and looked around for a place to sit.

"This part is always easier with Chloe," Christian muttered.

"Because she's pushy?" Steven asked with a grin. He adored his sisters, but that didn't mean he couldn't tease the heck out of them.

"Na, 'cause she's pregnant," Christian replied as his eyes surveyed the area. "People always get out of the way for a pregnant woman… or most raised with any common decency do."

"There's one." Alan pointed but, before the men could get moving, a group of teenagers descended upon the table. "Okay, not that one."

"They're leaving," Callen nodded his head in the direction and then started to move. With their trays down and the men all sitting, they'd secured their spot.

"Oh!" Chloe said, coming up behind her husband, her hand sliding over his shoulder as she leaned over to check out the food. "These fries look delicious!"

"You're so easy to please," Steven said with a laugh. "Fries with cheese. Don't need a fancy roast of lamb, with a balsamic reduction, don't even need real utensils," he said with a wave of his plastic fork. "Classy."

Chloe looked at her brother, her nose wrinkled with disgust. "How can you eat lamb? Lambs are adorable."

"What?" Steven asked, shaking his head. "You're not vegetarian."

"No," Chloe responded, taking her seat and grabbing her cardboard basket of fries. "I'm not vegetarian, but I don't eat the cute animals."

"So, the ugly animals, it's okay to cut them-"

"Steven!" Susan scolded quickly, her eyebrows raised slightly, eyes narrowed. "Knock it off."

"Sorry, Mom." Steven had the look of a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Chloe looked triumphant.

"Who are you to talk anyway?" Chloe said, pointing her plastic fork at his food. "You're eating a hamburger!"

"Yeah, but I don't have rules on which meats I eat. I eat them all." After a second of thought, he shot his sister a lewd grin.

"Really?" Chloe's nose wrinkled up and her eyes narrowed at her brother. "I'm eating."

"Kids," Nell said, looking at her siblings. "Enough."

"Oh look, you already have this 'mother' thing down," Steven commented.

"Yeah, when are you going to have one of these?" Chloe asked, rubbing her hand over her baby bump.

Nell's eyebrows drew down as she stared at her siblings. They'd been arguing with each other and now suddenly they were ganging up on her, which happened to be the norm when it came to her siblings. "I don't know," she replied. "How about we just focus on the wedding first?"

"But kids are going to happen, right?" Chloe pried. "I want a niece or nephew."

Neither Callen nor Nell responded, but their eyes both turned to one another. They'd discussed children briefly, mostly Nell's desire for one while Callen agreed he liked the concept of a child but worried more over the practicalities. His job had extreme dangers. Nell's job included many unpredictable hours. Their lives revolved around their jobs; both worried how they would be able to balance that with parenthood. They couldn't discuss this with the Jones family though. In their eyes Nell had a job as a TV news editor and Callen worked as an accountant. There was no reason, based on those jobs, why they shouldn't be able to have a normal, stable lifestyle.

Nell's eyes asked for an answer to give her family. Callen offered an uncommitted little shrug of his shoulders.

"Those street performers were really something," Alan said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen and bringing the attention to himself and off of Nell and Callen. "That man all painted silver. I thought he was a statue."

Nell and Callen returned to their food, but both knew that everyone in their lives had babies on the brain; they couldn't avoid the topic for long.


	28. Fact and Fiction

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 1845 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"How is that a cat?" Christian asked as everyone sat around the coffee table in the living room. Chloe, Nell and Susan had the couch; Alan had the chair while Callen, Christian and Steven were all sitting on the floor around the game board.

"I said Pictionary was a terrible idea," Callen replied with a laugh.

"Shut up!" Nell replied, rolling up the scrap of paper and tossing it at him. He ducked and it missed. "I'm out of practice."

"That implies you were once good," Steven said. "And trust me, boys, she wasn't."

"We should have played Trivia Pursuit," Nell muttered.

"Then none of us would stand a chance," Chloe argued.

"Scrabble?" Nell suggested.

"No!" Chloe and Steven both shouted at once.

"Monopoly!" Susan offered.

Chloe and Nell both shook their heads. Steven groaned.

"The game isn't that bad." Alan defended his wife's suggestion.

"Name one family fight that wasn't started by Monopoly," Steven said, shooting his father a serious look.

Alan sat in silence for a moment. "Okay, maybe not Monopoly."

"Wouldn't be a terrible game as long as Chloe isn't the banker," Christian said with a smirk. "She steals hundreds."

"I do not!" Chloe shrieked indignantly.

"You do so," Christian replied.

A knock at the door broke the silence. Callen stood and shot Nell a questioning look. She shrugged. Callen crossed the living room, peeked through the blind of the window right beside the door, and a moment later heard quiet squabbling.

He smiled and shook his head before opening it. "Hey."

"Hi," Angela said, looking at him while she took a blind kick and hit Renko in the shin.

"Ow! Really?" Renko muttered, taking a step away from his partner.

"Nell around?" Angela asked, ignoring the complaints of her partner.

"Yeah, come on in," Callen replied, taking a step back.

Angela came in first and Renko followed close behind shutting the door behind him. "I hope we aren't intruding," Angela said suddenly. "We won't be long. I just need to show Nell a few things."

"We're just playing Pictionary," Callen said as the other two agents took off their shoes.

"I love Pictionary," Renko commented.

Angela's grey eyes did a quick roll. "You would."

"What's wrong with Pictionary?" Renko asked.

Angela blew out an annoyed breath and shook her head. They followed Callen into the living room. Renko took notice of Nell's very pregnant sister and a step later Angela froze. His hand went to the small of Angela's back to keep her going forward. "I didn't realize you had company," Angela said, hugging the file she had with her to her chest. "We can do this another time."

"This is Nell's family. They're visiting for a little while," Callen replied, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Don't worry, they don't bite," Nell insisted, getting out from between her mother and her sister and doing a quick round of introductions. "This is Mike and Angela," she said to her family and then pointed out her family for Renko and Angela. "This is my brother Steven, my brother-in-law Christian, my father Alan, my sister Chloe, and my mother Susan."

"Get out," Renko said with a grin. "Here I was thinking you must have two sisters."

"Oh, I like him," Susan said with a laugh. "Handsome and charming."

"Don't encourage him," Angela said dryly. "His ego is big enough as it is."

"Babe," Renko said, putting his hand over his chest. "You wound me."

"Keep it up and I will," Angela threatened, her voice low.

"How long have you two been together?" Steven asked with a laugh.

"What?" Angela instantly turned red. "We are… we're not-"

Renko winked at Callen and Nell before he risked life and limb as he threw his arm over his partner's shoulder. "How long has it been, Babe? A year and four months?"

"What are you doing?" she whispered heatedly.

He leaned in to her, his mouth by her ear. "You need undercover practice, go with it." He turned to Nell's family. "She's shy," he said with a smile.

"No need to be shy," Susan insisted. "Any friend of Nell's is a friend of ours. She told us you've been helping out with the wedding. Are you an event planner?"

"No," Angela replied automatically but felt Renko's fingers squeeze into her shoulder. "I'm…" she fumbled for an occupation.

"Starting her own interior design business," Renko covered for her quickly, his thumb rubbing over the soft cotton of her grey long-sleeved shirt. "We're still renovating our place, but it'll be great for her portfolio later."

"And what do you do, Mike?" Alan asked.

"Photojournalist," Renko responded automatically.

"That sounds like a fun job," Susan commented.

Renko smiled. "I enjoy it, it pays the bills and it keeps this one happy," he said, pulling Angela closer. He noticed the grin that Callen tried desperately to hide by fake coughing. "What more can I ask for?"

"Health benefits," Angela responded, trying to play her part. "Especially if your work is going to take you into dangerous areas again." She looked up at him, her grey eyes open and honest. "I worry about you."

Renko wondered how far he could push their little game but Angela then turned away from him and passed Nell the folder she had brought with her. "These are the two best options."

Nell smiled and her heart sped up with excitement. She opened the file in her hands. On either side information had been held in place by paperclips. The top sheet had the information on the floral shop, location, price point, contact information. The rest were pictures of work the shop had done. Nell bit down on her bottom lip; she recognized the name on the first side. That particular florist had a reputation for the most stunning creations, but also the most costly.

"I thought I gave you my budget," Nell said tersely. She didn't want to see all the things they couldn't afford. It made her frustrated that Angela hadn't listened to her when she gave the older woman a copy of her budgeting sheet.

"You did," Angela replied.

"And you ignored it," Nell muttered, pushing a hand through her choppy red locks.

Angela bristled and crossed her arms over her chest. "I talked to the apprentice who's working there. Everyone who goes there wants one of the lead designers to do their work, so the apprentice, Laurel, never gets booked. She's just as talented and she doesn't charge the exorbitant fees for labour as she's still trying to build a portfolio of her work."

Nell looked up with her mouth slightly agape. The few pictures Angela had tacked in were nothing short of phenomenal. "So… she'd work with my budget."

"You gave me the budget, right?" Angela said, her annoyance not lost on Nell. "She'd be under your budget as long as she gets to photograph everything to use on her website and in her printed portfolio and can use you as a reference if she needs it for another job."

"Really?" Nell said, a little breathless in her surprise. She turned as she felt her sister's hair brush against her shoulder as Chloe peeked at the images.

"Look at that centerpiece," Chloe said in awe, taking one of the pictures out from its paperclip trap. "Mom, you have to see this!" She passed it over her husband's head to her mother who also looked surprised by its beauty.

"Choice is yours," Angela said shortly. "All the contact info is there. I'll talk to the caterers tomorrow."

Nell felt bad. She'd assumed that Angela hadn't listened to her wishes, and instead Angela had ensured her the very best their money could buy. "Angela," she said in relief as the weight of one wedding item lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you."

Angela nodded but seemed uncomfortable with the eyes on her. "Well, that's it." She turned to Renko. "We have to go."

"What? I was going to get in on Pictionary," Renko said with a grin.

"You're welcome to it," Callen said with a grin. "I know you're not as bad as Nell."

"Hey!" Nell glared over at Callen. She then turned back to Renko and Angela. "You two should stay. We can start over."

"Because you're losing," Chloe said with a laugh.

"Badly," Steven added.

"Kids, stop picking on Nell," Alan said, shaking his head.

"Come on, Ange," Renko said softly. "This or the Rubik's cube… you can't draw, can you?"

"I didn't say that," Angela bristled.

"Going to embarrass yourself with your serious lack of skills?" Renko asked.

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't start with me, Michael."

"Oh, she's kicking!" Chloe said, grabbing the closest person, who happened to be Angela. "Feel this. She's going to be a soccer star."

"Him," Christian muttered quietly.

"Her," Chloe argued.

Renko tensed and his eyes went to Angela's face as her hand flattened over Chloe's round belly. Angela seemed almost serene for a moment, a little smile played upon her lips. "Wow. Won't be long now till you get to hold her," Angela whispered.

"I'm so excited!" Chloe responded.

"Do you have names picked out?" Angela asked, the smile slowly fading.

"No, not yet. We've narrowed it, but we still can't decide." Chloe shot her husband a smile before she looked back to Angela. "We'll know when the time comes; I just know it."

Renko put his hand on Angela's lower back. She stepped back into the comfort, her hand sliding away. Angela nodded, tears glistening unshed in her eyes. She forced the smile. "Yeah," she said. "You'll know."

"Do you have guys have kids?" Chloe asked, looking to both Renko and Angela.

"We…" Renko trailed seeing his partner's internal fight for composure written all over her face. She wouldn't look at Chloe anymore. Her eyes focused on a little cactus plant on the mantel. He knew that everyone in the room knew something was up. He couldn't simply play it off as nothing. "We lost a child a few months back," Renko said softly.

Chloe's eyes widened and she immediately looked shamefaced. "I'm so sorry!"

Renko's eyes flicked to Angela. It appeared to him she could draw blood with how hard she had bitten down on her lower lip. "We'll get through it," he said. His fingertips skimmed along the back of her neck, and she walked willingly into his arms, his hand flattening along her neck, thumb brushing against her skin. They were familiar and comfortable with one another but Renko worried about showing this kind of affection outside of Angela's place that had become their sanctuary, especially in front of two colleagues.

"We'll try again." He weighed comments on how they would smooth over things with Nell's family, how it would look to Callen who knew him well enough to filter out fact from fiction, and, most importantly, its potential effect on Angela. His partner's eyes found his and he wasn't certain if he'd maintained the balance with his comments. She managed a little smile.

"When the time's right, it'll happen." She reached out and adjusted the lapel of his shirt just for something to do with her shaking hands. "You'll make a great dad." Her voice nearly broke and for Renko it said more than the words. Her heartbreaking honesty ripped through him. For a second, he felt as though the loss had been mutual. He'd always been good at believing his own lies.

Callen frowned, wondering just how deep Renko had gotten with his partner Angela. What had started out as a game between undercover partners had spun out of control in a confusing mix of truths and lies. He knew Renko well enough to understand the bond between the constantly fighting partners. Callen found himself bothered by physical familiarities, far beyond that of most work partners. They stayed physically close at all times and, before anyone else noticed something off in Angela, Renko was already there. He understood that this knowledge and instinct served partners in their field well, but their bond seemed beyond that.

"So," Angela said, pushing out the word when she had her voice under control. "Pictionary."

"The game of stick figures and inappropriate guesses," Renko said, slowly turning to his old friend. "Isn't that right, G?"

"Don't even start, Mike," Callen responded, eyeing his friend.

"The stories I could tell," Renko insisted, winking at Nell.

"Thirty-fifth birthday?" Nell raised her eyebrow still remembering a comment Renko had made during Callen's fortieth birthday party.

Renko tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably. He looked from Nell to Callen and then to the Jones family. "Better not," Renko decided. "We best be going. Sugar is going to be circling at the door if we're much longer."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 2030 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Angela sipped on the wine, her third glass of the evening. Renko took another sip of his water. "You okay?" he asked.

"It shouldn't be like this," she said. "Clarity in brief and startling moments." She stood and looked around the place she called home. "I try." Her voice shook and she held the wine glass a little tighter as she walked into the kitchen area. Renko stood and followed. She poured the remainder of her wine down the drain, deciding she'd had more than enough for the evening. "I keep saying I'm okay. And I am, Mike, I am. Until it all just," she looked to the ceiling as she gripped the counter tight enough to make her knuckles turn white. "It all just catches up to me. It's everything at once. I don't know what to do with it all. There just isn't enough good to even out all the bad."

"Well," he said, taking out her elastic gently just so he could run his hand through her silky hair. "We'll just have to tip those scales, won't we?"

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6: 2245 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"G?" Nell crossed their bedroom tiredly. "My hands are cold," she said right before she flattened them against his bare back.

He jumped at the sudden cold. "Why don't you get into bed then?"

"Because I'm waiting for you," she replied. "What's on your mind, G?"

Callen didn't know how to balance the tightrope between these two real things in his life-his friendship with Renko and his relationship with Nell. He didn't know if he should say anything about his suspicions.

Nell tilted her head at the hesitation. They could share anything, even their top-secret jobs. It took her a moment, but she caught on. "This about Mike and Angela?"

"I guess I'm just worried," Callen admitted and then shook his head. In the time Callen had known Renko, the man had never been in a serious relationship. He also knew that prior to the time they'd known each other, Renko had been in a serious relationship that had ended _very_ badly but no details. Callen didn't see how it could work out between the laid-back Renko and the volatile Angela. Additionally, they were partners, and, more than that, Renko had rank over her as well. Callen shook his head. "Come on," he said, pulling his fiancée close. "Let's get to bed."


	29. Good Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is exclusive to A03, content not permitted on FF.net.   
> Sexual Content warning.   
> This chapter went un-betaed.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 0420 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Callen stood under the warm spray of the large showerhead. He had given up on sleep over an hour ago, but had chosen to stay in bed a little longer just to stay close to Nell. Restlessness had taken over and not wishing to wake his fiancée, he’d decided to get ready for the day. Besides, with Nell’s family visiting, one less person trying to get into the shower at peak times was optimal.

 

He heard the lock on the door pop and he froze for a second. The door opened and cool air flooded the steamy bathroom. He peeked around the shower curtain and spotted Nell. She had a wicked case of bedhead, a mischievous grin, flannel pajamas and his lock pick tools in her hands. He found her to be stunning.

 

“What are you doing?” he whispered, not wanting to potentially wake up her parents.

 

“I’m being responsible,” she replied as she started to undo the buttons on her top.

 

His mouth went dry. “How so?” he asked as she shrugged the garment off her slender shoulders and it dropped to the ground.

 

“I’m conserving water,” she replied pulling off her flannel bottoms, her panties coming off with them. “And shower time.”

 

He hardened at the sight of her, she caught his lips with hers and pressed until he stepped back and she could get in the shower with him. “How considerate of you,” he muttered against the column of her neck as he trailed kisses down and across her freckled collarbone.

 

“I don’t know about that,” she said a little breathlessly as she ran her hands down his wet chest and he pushed her back against the cold wall. Her breath hitched and she arched against him. “I might have had a rather selfish ulterior motive.”

 

The water sprayed over them and his hands ran up the slopes of her sides, curving to cup her breasts. “What might that have been?”

 

Her eyes were bright and playful when she looked up at him. “Might have just wanted to see you all wet and naked.”

 

“That it?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, her legs pressed together in desperate desire for some kind of friction. “I woke up and I was alone. I miss you, I want you.” She gripped his hardened length so there could be no mistake about what she meant. “Now.”

 

“Your paren-“

 

“Won’t be up for another few hours,” she said swiftly as she stroked him. “We’ll be quick.”  She could feel his resolve crumble as pleasure crossed his features and his forehead rested against hers.

 

His hand slipped between her legs and he found her already wet. He groaned. “You’re wicked, Nell Jones.” She smiled cheekily, but the expression twisted into pleasure when he speared two fingers inside of her. “You might be right about quick,” he whispered against her ear. He almost completely removed his fingers before he thrust them back in and a whimper escaped her lips. “I want you bad.”

 

His lips claimed hers and she kissed him back, rocking her hips against his hand as he slipped his fingers from her.

 

She whispered his name softly and it sounded like a curse. She rocked her hips against his. He lifted her, her legs wrapped around his waist immediately. A breathy moan escaped her lips as he entered her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed along the stubble on his jaw as he thrust. The heat of him and the water contrasted sharply with the cool tile at her back.

 

Deliberately slow thrusts kept them both steadily climbing. Nell’s head tipped back as a wave of pleasure came over her. She bit her bottom lip trying to keep from moaning too loud. She loved being intimate with him. He managed to make her feel comfortable and at ease in her own skin. She felt remarkably loved and hoped that he felt the same.

 

Callen watched a bead of water fall from Nell’s hair, it curved over her collarbone, over the swell of her breast and disappeared between them. He marvelled at the feel of her for a moment before his eyes did the reverse journey. Her body, sexy as hell, enraptured him. The feel of her, the scent of her, the look of those dark hazel eyes as she whispered his name, he knew in his very soul that she was it for him. His one and only.

 

Her hands ran over his shoulders and she wrapped her arms around his neck closing the space between their upper bodies.

 

Both were panting for breath. Lips collided in hungry kisses.

 

“G,” she breathed, her legs tightened around him. “ _Yes_.”

 

The slow pace they’d kept deteriorated to quick, hard snaps of his hips that had her biting on his shoulder, muffling but in no way silencing the pleasured sounds she kept making that spurred him on.

 

Her body welcomed his and he never felt better than when they were together. Her nails dug into his skin, and her teeth bit down hard enough that he knew he’d have a bruise and it didn’t matter as they both fell into bliss.

 

Their foreheads rested against one another as they both panted for breath. Dopey smiles were on both of their faces. Her hand came up to rest on the side of his face, her thumb brushed over the stubble he’d yet to shave for the day. “God, I love you, G.”

 

He smiled a little wider. “I love you too, Nell.”

 

The two showered quickly after that, constantly sneaking glances at the other and trading places under the showerhead to rinse off. Neither could ascertain how much time their ‘quicky’ had actually taken so they moved as fast as possible. With teeth brushed, Nell’s brushed hair and Callen’s clean shave, both wrapped up in towels, walked out of the bathroom.

 

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 0520 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Nell and Callen were snuggled up on the couch in the living room. Their guests were still all shut up in their rooms. Nell’s eyes were heavy and kept shutting. There were things she needed to be doing. The wedding, mere months away, still needed much work. She figured she should cook something for breakfast. Her head laid against Callen’s chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart created the most beautiful lullaby.

 

She thought about approaching the subject of children while they were alone but she enjoyed the quiet, calm moment too much to break it. They would have time to discuss the topic again once they were married. She glanced up at him to see his eyes were shut and she wondered if he had fallen back to sleep. If so, he smiled a bit and tightened his grip around her, she figured he was having a good dream and left him be.

 

With her head against his chest, she ignored her to-do-list and allowed herself to go back to sleep in the safety of her lover’s arms.


	30. Competitive Nature

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 0954 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Deeks shot the basketball from centre court, and it sunk right in the basket. He threw both hands up in the air and let out an excited yip. He looked around to see if anyone had witnessed his amazing shot, but there was no one there. He retrieved the ball and dribbled it a bit as he waited.

The team's caseload was light since their team leader and intelligence analyst were off. Deeks never wished for more work, not even on the light days when boredom sunk in. In his line of work, slow days meant that people were behaving themselves, and there weren't any dead bodies that required their attention.

The door opened. He expected Kensi, who had said she'd shoot a round of hoops with him, but instead it was Faraday. "Hey," Deeks greeted. "Doesn't your team have today off?"

"Yeah," Faraday responded. He shrugged his shoulders. "This gym doesn't require a membership fee."

Deeks smiled. The frugality reminded him of Callen. He lifted the basketball a bit. "Wanna play?"

Faraday grinned. "Sure, we going to put money on this and make it interesting?"

"Twenty bucks?"

Faraday rolled his shoulders back. "You're on."

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 0956 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Kensi had a grin on her face as she watched Sam start yet another file of paperwork. "So, how is it being the boss for a week?"

Sam shot Kensi a desperate look. "This is insanity. I didn't realize how much more paperwork Callen has. Now I get why he's in early or comes in on a day off. It's just to keep up." He looked back down at the paperwork, his dark eyes scanning over it before he glared at her. "You keyed a car?"

She pushed away from Callen's desk which she'd been leaning on and walked over to Sam's. She looked at the paperwork and noted the date. "They caught me eavesdropping," Kensi defended her decision. "I had to do something to take the suspicion off me."

"The old cheating boyfriend's car routine?"

Kensi flashed a big smile. "Works like a charm!"

"Do you realize the expense of the paint job?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger agent.

She shrugged. "I don't pay for it."

"No, it comes out of OSP's operational funds," Sam told her. "Hetty is going to chew me out for not stopping you."

"Nah." Kensi dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. "Hetty's never chewed out Callen for it."

"That you know of."

"I think we would have heard about it," Kensi replied with a grin. "Don't worry so much."

Sierra walked over. Her dark blue button up mechanic's shirt had her name stitched on the right side above the pocket. Grease stains stood out on her faded blue jeans. She looked at Callen's desk and the note on his inbox that he was on leave. She turned to Sam. "Are you temporarily in charge?"

"Yeah," Sam replied warily.

Sierra put another file in the inbox. "Good luck with that."

"What's in it?" Sam asked, both curious and fearful of the file.

"You remember that 1967 Chevy Impala?" Sierra asked.

Of course Sam remembered. The case was recent. "Deeks signed it out about two weeks ago during a case." Sam also remembered how it came back and grimaced.

"More holes than Swiss cheese," Sierra said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Bullets pretty much demolished it. Hetty is going to lose it when she sees the expense for restoration."

Sam blew out a breath. "How many more days until G returns?" He asked rhetorically.

Kensi and Sierra shared a smile and walked out of the bullpen together. "You on break?" Kensi asked.

"No, one of the other mechanics wanted more hours. I gave him half my shift," Sierra replied. "I figured I'd stop in here and deliver the file, then maybe get in a bit of time at the gym before getting lunch."

"I'm headed to the gym, too," Kensi said, checking her bulky black watch. "Told Deeks I'd be there like ten minutes ago."

"I'm sure he figured out how to occupy himself," Sierra said as they turned down the hall to the gym.

Kensi pushed open the door to the gym and held it for Sierra. The two women paused inside the door with grins on their faces. Faraday and Deeks were in an intense game of one-on-one, both running around, fighting for the ball. Deeks got the ball from Faraday and took a shot from centre court. It bounced off the backboard and went back into play.

"See," Sierra said. "Occupied." She grinned watching the two good-looking blonde men run around the court. Faraday took possession of the ball and jumped as he took a shot, which went in. "Nothing but net," she announced, walking toward the half court they had in the gym.

Faraday turned and smiled at her. "And twenty bucks."

"First to five," Deeks tried.

"Why?" Faraday asked. "I already won first to three and the twenty dollars that goes with it."

"First to five and you get to keep your three, double or nothing. Partners," Kensi offered, standing beside Deeks, who gave her a smile, his eyes trailing over her body that was currently modeling sleek black biker shorts and a grey workout shirt that showed a few inches of her midriff. It didn't matter what she wore, he always found her to be absolutely stunning.

Faraday considered the offer and looked over at Sierra. "You in?"

Sierra and Faraday used to play one-on-one when he had first come to OSP. Their game continuously deteriorated into a game of flirtation, and they counted scores of another kind.

Sierra smiled a little shyly. "Give me five minutes to change into my gym stuff."

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1012 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Deeks pivoted and bounce-passed the ball to Kensi. She caught it in both hands and jumped as she launched the ball. It hit the backboard and rolled slowly around the rim before tipping into the basket, securing their second point of the game.

"Yes!" Kensi threw her fist into the air and turned to high-five her partner.

Deeks held her hand a little longer than necessary, their bodies close together. "Very nice."

"Why, thank you," she replied coyly.

"You just let them have it," Sierra said, tossing up her hands in an agitated fashion.

"I did not. I was on Deeks," Faraday replied easily. "You're the one who let Kensi get the ball."

Sierra poked her game partner in the chest. "You're the one who let Deeks throw it to her." She couldn't figure Faraday out. She knew damn well he was an ungracious loser, and yet he stood there before her with a big grin on his face. "What the heck are you smiling about? They've almost caught up to your lead!"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, ensuring his lips were hidden from Kensi, who he knew could lip-read. "You're so damn sexy when you're all worked up."

She felt her cheeks warm up. He backed up a few steps and shot her a grin. "Our ball!"

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1032 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

The game tied up at four-four, and both teams had progressively become more and more competitive.

Kensi turned to pass the ball to Deeks, but Sierra intercepted it. She dribbled it down the court and took the shot, but it bounced off the rim and back into play.

Deeks got the ball, but Faraday kept blocking and eventually managed to knock it from Deeks's hands but couldn't keep it in his possession. Kensi took off with the ball only to be blocked by Sierra. Kensi turned and passed it to Deeks, who took a long shot, which went wide and sailed over the net and out of play.

Sierra went to collect it when the door opened. Sam walked in. "Hey, Kens, Deeks- Hetty wants you both."

"Can't it wait?" Faraday asked.

Sam shot him a dark look. "It's Hetty."

Faraday looked to Kensi. "Would that be a no?"

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Guess we'll have to pick this up another time."

"Sudden death," Deeks agreed. "Forty bucks."

"Too bad, I was feeling good about this," Sierra said, hugging the ball as she watched Sam leave, Kensi and Deeks following close behind.

"Well, we could play one-on-one, keep ourselves in practice," Faraday suggested.

Sierra smiled up at him. "First to five," she offered. "Loser buys lunch."

"You're on."


	31. Impromptu Vacation

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1035 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

"What do you think she wants?" Kensi asked her partner worriedly. Both were still in their workout gear from their basketball game with Faraday and Sierra.

"It's Hetty," Deeks replied. "What makes you think I would know what she's thinking?" He shook his head with a fond grin. "I could live to be one hundred and never quite understand Hetty."

Nerves had Kensi wringing her fingers. "Did I forget something on my expense report?"

"Calm down," Deeks said, placing a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder. "I'm sure it's nothing bad." Although, now that she mentioned expense reports, he wondered if his was still untouched in his inbox.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1038 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Deeks made a gesture for Kensi to enter Hetty's open office first. She shot him a quick glare before turning to smile at Hetty and then taking the far seat as Deeks took the spot with the quickest escape. Kensi scowled at him.

"Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks," Hetty greeted formally. She gestured to the pot of tea that sat upon her desk. "Would you care for some tea?"

"No, thank you," Kensi replied, raising her water bottle. "I'm good."

"I'd love some," Deeks said. He much preferred coffee but didn't mind some teas. He hoped whatever Hetty had brewed was to his liking. Mostly, he just hoped some shared tea would get him off easy on whatever it was he and his partner were in trouble for. He once again felt like a kid in the principal's office.

Hetty poured the light green liquid into a dainty floral patterned teacup on a matching saucer. She passed it to Deeks, who took it with a thankful smile. He took a testing sip, plain but not half bad.

"I suspect that you are both wondering why I called you in here," Hetty said, her head tilting forward so she could stare at them over the rim of her glasses.

Kensi shifted uncomfortably under the gaze, and Deeks took a sip of his tea to hide a nervous smile. Smartly, both stayed silent.

"With Mr. Callen and Miss Jones gone, your team is unbalanced," Hetty said, pouring herself another cup of tea. "Mr. Beale currently has plenty to prepare for, and Mr. Hanna has an overwhelming number of vacation days stocked up. You, too, have a backlog of vacation days, Miss Blye. I also know that Miss Jones has requested your presence tomorrow for bridal shopping." Hetty turned her eyes to the blond detective as she opened a drawer. "And you, Mr. Deeks…" She pulled out an envelope and slid it across her desk. "I don't believe you've made time to go and see your godson."

Deeks eyed the envelope suspiciously before he picked it up. He looked questioningly over at Hetty, who gave him a nod. He ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled out a plane ticket, final destination Florida, where Ray and Jenna were living with his godson Aaron. Shocked into silence, he sat there dumbfounded for a moment. His eyes returned to Hetty, who smiled. "You deserve a few days off," she said simply.

He cleared his throat and found his voice. "Thank you," his words rang clear with sincerity.

"You're most welcome," she replied with a nod. "I'd get packing if I were you. Your flight leaves later today."

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1240 HRS: DEEKS RESIDENCE**

Deeks kept trying to pack, but he occasionally would get distracted by Kensi who had sprawled out on the bed. Her long hair laid in curls down her back and fell over her shoulder. She flipped through one of his Green Lantern graphic novels, and he loved that she had a nerdy side.

"How long are you going to be gone?" Kensi asked while her eyes stayed glued on the fight between Green Lantern Hal Jordan and Sinestro wearing the yellow ring of fear.

"I'll be back Friday late night," Deeks replied. As excited as he was to go and see Ray, Jenna and the young Aaron, he knew he would spend the entire time missing Kensi greatly. "You won't even notice I'm gone. I'm sure Nell will keep you busy. Aren't you looking forward to going dress shopping with her?"

Kensi nodded as she flipped the page. "I am," she agreed and held back a sigh. She felt a bit melancholy knowing he would be gone three days. She complained about her partner in front of their teammates to keep up appearances, and because she found great joy in teasing him, but behind closed doors they were something different. The bed would feel lonely without his heat, the couch wouldn't be quite as comfortable without his shoulder to lean against, and the days would be a little longer without his humour and charm.

He zipped up the black, wheeled suitcase he had borrowed from Kensi and rolled it over to the doorway of his bedroom. "I have to go."

"I know," she replied, feeling foolish when her eyes welled against her will. She determinedly kept her eyes on the brightly coloured battle in the comic book.

The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and she could feel his stare. Knowing he would wait there, she took a deep breath and quickly blinked a few times, trying to clear her sight before she looked up. "Have a safe flight," she told him.

His hand cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. "I'll miss you every second I'm gone."

Her defenses buckled under his confession. "I'll miss you, too." Her voice trembled under the emotion as she quickly moved and launched herself into his arms. He fell back under the sudden attack but didn't mind. He held her tight and breathed in her unique scent, wishing he could hold her just a little bit longer.

Her lips claimed his and said the words that failed her. They shared a few slow, sweet kisses and their foreheads touched. "I love you, too," he said, understanding what had been said without the words.

She sighed in relief and melted into his arms, holding onto the feeling, trying to lock it in her memory to call up when she felt lonely while he was gone.


	32. Little Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the marvelous JET1967 for proofreading, which REALLY saved my bacon this time around ;)

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1530 HRS: SOUTH REGION DAY CAMP  
**

"Daddy!" Zoe shouted excitedly as she broke away from the other children leaving the summer day camp and ran into her father's arms. "What are you doing here? You never pick us up after camp."

Sam smiled. "Hetty gave me a break." He hadn't argued when Hetty gave him a few days off. He didn't want to admit it, but Callen left big shoes for him to fill while on leave.

"Cool," Zoe said and proceeded to drop her backpack and rummage through it till she found a painting. "Look, Daddy! We did these paintings with potatoes!"

He looked down at the painting of the night sky, bright stars stamped everywhere, lighting up the paper. "It's beautiful, Zoe," he told her, ruffling her hair in an affectionate manner. Much like her mother, Zoe sighed and proceeded to try to fix her wild tight curls.

"Dad? Where's Mom?" Zachary asked as he came over, an expression of worry on his face.

"She's at home," Sam replied to his son. Zachary had always been a perceptive child; Sam worried that his son knew more than he let on. "She wanted to get a start on dinner, and I got off early so I came to get you guys."

Zachary nodded and adjusted his backpack. "Do you know what she's making? I hope it isn't meatloaf; I hate meatloaf."

"I'm not sure what she's making," Sam replied with a laugh. He opened the door so Zoe could climb in the back and fasten her seatbelt. She had only recently stopped needing a booster seat. Zachary got in the other side and buckled up beside his sister. "How about we go to the park after dinner and then get ice cream?"

"Really?" Both children perked up in their seats.

"Yes, really," Sam replied, looking back to make sure both seatbelts were on properly before he started the car.

"Sweet," Zachary replied, smiling.

"I love it when you're home, Daddy," Zoe said.

Sam smiled. He loved being home.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1703 HRS: SUPER SMOOTHIE SHACK**

When Nate walked in, he quickly looked around. A group of teenage girls sat gossiping in a booth. Two women sat close together and shot each other adoring looks. A woman sat alone by the window. A father sat with two unruly children, one of whom had spilt their drink on the floor. The woman behind the counter shook her head at the sight. No one appeared threatening. Training forced him to look around once again for all exits. Then and only then did he allow his eyes to go back to the lone woman.

The smile came on his face without a thought. Her red hair cascaded down her back in styled curls. She stared out the window, looking away from him, so she had no idea she was being observed. The sheer lavender blouse she wore complimented her skin. Black skinny jeans seemed to elongate her already long legs. On her feet were blue suede booties that tapped to the beat of the song playing quietly on the radio. She let out a sigh and pushed back some of her hair while leaning back in the booth she'd claimed.

He walked over. As he approached, she turned. She gave him one of her megawatt smiles, her big, bright green eyes creased around the edges. "Nathaniel." He loved the way her tongue rolled over his name with delight. She stood and hugged him immediately.

"Have you been waiting long?" He asked as he hugged her back, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

"All my life," Delaney replied dramatically. She couldn't keep a straight face and laughed. "Nah, I didn't get here much before you did."

The two made their way over to the counter and studied the big menu.

"Plenty of flavours to choose from," the woman behind the counter, Gerry, said.

Nate settled on the safe choice of strawberry while Delaney went with acai berry. Delaney tried to pay but Nate insisted.

"What a gentleman," Gerry said, looking over at Delaney. "He's a keeper."

Delaney smiled and looked over at Nate. "Yeah, I know."

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1715 HRS: BLYE RESIDENCE**

Kensi blew her bangs from her eyes. She had tidied up her little house. No longer did a black bra lay on the back of the couch. The coffee table now sat clean and free of coffee mugs, newspapers, bills or hair elastics. The kitchen had the fresh scent of lemon cleaner; her dishes sat drying in the dish drainer. She had vacuumed the carpets and mopped the floors. She'd cleaned the bathroom and made her bed.

She glowered at the clock. Deeks would have just caught his plane. She felt foolish; he'd only been gone a few hours. The knowledge that he wouldn't be back for days messed with her. She felt at odds. She spent so much of her time with him that it felt so strange to be alone.

Her feet walked along the freshly cleaned floors to her bedroom where she grabbed the overflowing laundry basket. She carried it back down the hall to the stackable washer and dryer hidden in an alcove on the far side of her kitchen. She sorted the laundry on the floor and threw in a load of darks. She looked in the drum and decided enough room remained for another few things. She turned back to the piles and grabbed a sweater. Too big to be hers, she looked at it a little closer. Definitely one of Deeks's sweaters. Big, dark blue, some surfing logo on the chest. She remembered the last time he'd worn it; they'd gone surfing early one morning and he had worn it to the beach to fend off the chill. It still smelt clean, and remarkably like her partner, his own scent and traces of his preferred cologne.

She set the sweater aside and threw in another pair of her jeans instead.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1716 HRS: BEALE/SHAW RESIDENCE**

Eric noticed that Bethany pushed her food around her plate after only the first few bites. He watched her breathe in and out a few times, her eyebrows drawn down, lips pressed together tightly.

"Bethany? Are yo-" He didn't even get to finish his question before she lunged from her seat and was out of the kitchen. He followed as quickly as he could, but, by the time he got to the short hallway of their shared apartment, the door to the bathroom slammed shut and the sound of vomiting was heard a moment later.

Timidly, Eric approached the door and knocked. "Beth?"

She groaned and he opened the door. Her colour had paled considerably. She had her long blonde hair held back in her hands; he quickly grabbed an elastic from the counter and took her hair in his own hands. He had a sister, ponytails weren't hard. "Do you wa-" He silenced as she threw up once more.

Bethany wiped tears from her eyes as she sat back and closed the toilet lid before flushing. "No pasta. Not ever again."

He figured she'd go a week, two tops, before taking that back. "Alright," he agreed. "Are you okay now?"

She looked up at him and remained quiet for a moment as she considered. "I think so." She shot a worried glance at the toilet and pouted. "I hate getting sick."

Eric extended his hand and Bethany took it. He pulled her up. She rested her forehead against his chest for a second, his arm loosely holding onto her around her lower back.

"You go finish your dinner," Bethany insisted. "I'm okay. I just have to brush my teeth."

"Do you want me to make you something else?" Eric asked.

Bethany shook her head. "Not right now. I'm not sure it would stay down at the moment."

He nodded and she shooed him once again from the bathroom. He kissed her forehead before leaving.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1716 HRS: HANNA RESIDENCE**

Dinner had been comprised of roast beef, cooked carrots and garlic mashed potatoes. No meatloaf, much to Zachary's delight. The kids ran off after they finished their plates so they could grab a few of their toys.

With the kids off in their rooms for the time being, Sam and Michelle stood together in the kitchen doing the dishes together. Michelle had suds up to her elbows as she worked at scrubbing the white dishes clean.

"How was work?" Michelle asked as rinsed off the dish before handing it to him.

"Good," Sam replied. "Have the next few days off. With G and Nell having houseguests and Deeks going to meet his godson, we're not even close to being a whole team right now." He opened the cupboard and put the plate away. "It's nice, though," he admitted, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder and walking up behind his wife. "I'm home early." His arms wrapped around her waist. "I get to see you and the kids more."

Michelle turned her head and smiled at him. "It's nice to have you home, Sam." She flicked suds at him and laughed when a white bubble cloud clung to his nose. "Here," she said, passing him a clean dish. "Get back to work."

He smirked and scooped a handful of suds into the palm of his hand.

She slowly set down the plate and backed up a step as her eyes narrowed in warning. "Don't you dare, Samuel!"

He blew the suds. She ended up with some in her hair, some on her shirt, and a few bubbles on her face. He laughed and she sighed before grabbing the extending faucet, switching from stream to spray.

"Mitch-" Sam couldn't even finish his wife's name before she turned on the water, spraying him with it. "Michelle!" He ran off quickly, getting out of range. He looked down at himself, the now soaking wet front of his shirt clung to his skin. "Really?" he threw up his hands in an aggravated fashion.

Michelle laughed so hard she had trouble breathing.

Zachary and Zoe, summoned by the commotion, poked their heads into the kitchen. "What are you guys doing?" Zachary asked.

"That's not how you do the dishes!" Zoe told them.

Sam and Michelle looked to one another and smiled. "I guess we both have to change now, too," Sam said, pulling his wet shirt away from his body.

"I guess so," Michelle replied, her eyes roaming over her husband's body before she turned her attention to her children. "Both of you grab sweaters; it's getting chilly."

"Okay, Mom," Zachary replied as he and his sister disappeared down the hall.

Michelle looked once again at Sam, smiled and returned to finishing the dishes.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 7: 1730 HRS: VENICE BEACH**

They walked down the shoreline in bare feet, leaving their shoes in the car. Her hand brushed casually against his and, without a moment of thought, he captured it in his own. A second after the action he felt nervous and his mind swirled with doubt, but at that moment she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm going back to New York," Delaney said, breaking the silence. Nate paused in his step, and she stopped a step later. Her green eyes flicked up to meet his dark brown ones. "Why don't we sit down?" she asked. He nodded just slightly. They walked a few steps away from the waterline before sitting side by side and staring out at the water.

"When?" he asked.

"Ticket is for Thursday," Delaney replied.

He nodded and couldn't rid himself of the intense feeling of dread. "You're leaving."

Her head rested against his shoulder again, the scent of her befuddling his mind. "For a little while. The lease on my apartment ends this month. Jackson tells me that if I want to sell my Manhattan properties it's a good time to do so. It's kind of hard to keep up with everything while I'm on the other side of the continent."

"So." Nate drew out the one word as he stared at her.

"So, I'll pack up what I want to keep and have it shipped to Los Angeles and then sell what I don't need. I guess I'll stay with my brother for a while till I find a place I like."

"You're coming back," he said with a smile.

She beamed at him. "Yeah, Nate, I'm coming back."

They sat in a companionable silence as the sun disappeared, listening to the sound of the ocean lapping the shore.

Delaney suddenly got up and Nate stared up at her. She looked down at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's go swimming!"

He stared blankly at her. "You can't be serious."

She stripped off her blouse and let it flutter down to the sand. "Where is your sense of adventure, Nate?"

"I get adventure!" He protested. "This isn't adventure, and the water is going to be cold!"

"Don't be such a baby," she replied, unfastening her jeans and wiggling her trim legs out of them. "Come on!"

"You're insane," he commented as she grabbed his hand, trying to drag him to his feet. "Swimming this time of night is frowned upon."

"Suit yourself," she said, walking backwards away from him till her feet hit the water. She smiled and continued back until the water lapped against the back of her knees. She extended her hands to both sides and let herself fall.

"Insane," he muttered to himself as he watched her head bob back up on a pitch of laughter. "Is it cold?" he taunted.

"Frigid, Nathaniel!" she responded and laughed once again. "Come on, it's beautiful!"

"Temporary insanity," he muttered to himself, unable to figure out why the hell he had started to unbutton his shirt.

Delaney wolf whistled. "Take it off!"

"Would you keep it down?" He requested as he pushed down his trousers.

"There is no one around!" Delaney's red hair had become darker and hung straight under the weight of the water.

In only boxer-briefs he came to the water line and dipped his feet in. Delaney walked out to meet him, her hair dark against the pale cream of her skin. She quickly moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pushing him deeper into the water. He turned, grabbed her and, when he let himself fall, he pulled her under with him.

When they came up, she still held tightly to him. The water was icy cold, logically he knew that, but when her eyes met his all he felt was warmth.


	33. Here and There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to the amazing JET1967 for proofreading.   
> All time tags in this one are local ;)   
> Also, this is my first time writing Team Gibbs :D very excited!

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 0825 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Nell reached out in her sleepy haze only to find the other side of the bed cool. She opened her eyes and looked around. Callen had left in the early in the night to catch his flight to Washington, DC for the conference. She remembered him kissing her temple and whispering 'I love you' before he left.

She lay there for a moment. She could hear Steven and Chloe bickering over how to cook bacon. Nell smiled, the argument happened to be a staple in the relationship between the siblings. Steven wanted the bacon chewy; Chloe demanded it crispy.

Nell shut her eyes and could hear their father giving her siblings an earful. The bickering died after that.

She inhaled deeply and could catch the dissipating notes of Callen's preferred aftershave. Her mind slid into a fantasy of their wedding. The more decisions they made, the more clear the daydream became. Her dress still constantly changed, but she hoped to change that today. She felt excited but nervous. She hoped that she would find something flattering and modest but not matronly. She wanted glamour, sparkle, and beauty. She wanted to look how he made her feel.

"Chloe's cooking?" she heard Christian's voice tinted with humour. "I hope Nell has a fire extinguisher."

Nell giggled a bit before pushing herself out of bed.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1023 HRS: NCIS WASHINGTON, DC FIELD OFFICE**

Callen couldn't think of a single way that the presenter could make the material more boring. He nearly nodded off; Gibbs elbowed him in the ribs. Callen shot the older man a look of ire. "How much longer?" Callen reached for his coffee, only to find it, for the third time, to be empty. He sighed.

"They'll let us go for lunch in a little over an hour," Gibbs replied, taking another sip of the extra-large coffee he'd picked up before settling into the conference.

Callen groaned. The day was going to be a long one.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1102 HRS: MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

Deeks took in everything about Ray's new place- and then reminded himself that he needed to call his best friend 'Charlie' now. Ray lived in a small house in a nice suburban neighbourhood. It kind of felt like stepping into the Twilight Zone considering how and where they had grown up.

Jenna had lunch set up on the patio out back. Aaron sat upright on his own on the ground playing with a plastic phone with big buttons that exclaimed the numbers he hit and played songs. The boy looked quite a bit like Ray- dark curly hair in disarray and the same eyes but with Jenna's nose.

The inside of the house, as Deeks had already been given the tour, had a country style to it. He felt certain that was Jenna's doing. The colours were muted. The layout flowed nicely from the entranceway into the laundry, leading to the spacious kitchen. Off to the left, the living room had a couple of comfortable looking couches, family pictures up on the wall. The hallway led down to the bathroom on the right and an office with a pull out couch on the left. Further down the hall Jenna and Ray's room got the most natural sunlight, and across from their room the bright blue nursery welcomed their little boy.

Deeks couldn't help but think that it was not just a house but a home.

"I wasn't sure what you liked." Jenna fussed with the food bowls, unwrapping the potato salad. Her blonde hair stuck out from her ponytail, highlighting the stress on her face.

"I'm not picky," Deeks insisted. "Relax, Jenna," he said softly. "My being here isn't going to jeopardize Charlie," the name for his friend seemed foreign on his tongue, "you or Aaron. I wouldn't have come if I thought it would."

Her eyes flicked up, and she let out a sigh. "Oh, I know that. I just, I mean, we don't usually have guests, and I'm not really sure how to play hostess." She flushed, a little embarrassed.

Deeks shook his head. "How Charlie managed to snag such a thoughtful woman is beyond me."

She giggled at his compliment. "He can be a charmer, when he wants to be, that is."

"That I can," Ray said, sliding the patio door shut behind himself. He held out a beer for Deeks, who took it with a nod of thanks. He handed his girlfriend the glass of pink lemonade she had requested.

"Ah!" Aaron slammed down the receiver on the toy phone, and a song began to play. He looked up at his father and made a grabbing motion with both hands.

Ray smiled and picked his son up, balancing the one year old on his hip. "Hey, Aaron, miss me?"

"Da, da." Aaron snuggled in. He seemed perfectly content to just be held there and watch what the adults were doing.

Deeks couldn't help himself. He put his beer down and made a funny face at the kid. Aaron smiled at him and held out his hands. Deeks plucked the kid from Ray's arms and held his godson close. Aaron yawned wide and rested his head against Deeks's shoulder.

You look good with a kid," Jenna commented.

Ray laughed as he sat down. "First, he's got to admit that thing with Wikipedia."

Deeks smiled as he sat, Aaron sitting on his lap, his eyes following a squirrel that ran around the back yard. "We have a thing," Deeks admitted as he grabbed a bun for his burger.

"Get out," Ray leaned forward. "You aren't sh-" he trailed off under the glare of Jenna. "Aren't messing with me, I mean messing with me."

"He's starting to talk, Charlie," Jenna scolded as she took her seat The name 'Charlie' slipped from Jenna's lips with ease, obviously use to the change after being in Witness Protection for so long. "You need to be careful with what you say around him. He's at an impressionable age."

"He's one!"

"Impressionable!"

Ray sighed and returned his gaze to his old buddy. "How long has this been going on?"

"A while," Deeks admitted. "We're a long way off from making ninja-assassins, though."

"Ninja-assassins?" Ray laughed and shook his head. "That's what you call a kid?"

"You've met Kensi right?" Deeks responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I figure your genetics would even things out."

Deeks placed a hand over his heart. "Ouch."

Jenna shook her head. "Eat, boys, before it gets cold. You two can gossip like old ladies later."

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1110 HRS: RYERSON BRIDAL BOUTIQUE**

Nell felt jittery with nerves. Her fingertips wouldn't stop tapping against her legs. Her father held open the door for her, and she stepped into the bridal boutique followed closely by Susan, Chloe, Christian and Steven. It was a good thing Callen had taken a taxi and left his car, as there was no way everyone would have fit in her Mini Cooper.

She looked around and spotted Kensi flipping through the racks. "Hey, Kensi."

Kensi turned and smiled. "Hey, Nell."

Nell quickly introduced Kensi to her family who gave the agent a warm welcome.

A woman came over to start the appointment. She introduced herself as Elle and brought Nell and her family over to sit down. She asked Nell a bunch of questions about the wedding first. What colours would her flowers be? Which day they would be married? Where would the ceremony take place? Nell answered as quickly and accurately as possible, although there were points she hadn't finalized yet. She felt incredibly overwhelmed and unprepared.

Elle gave a nod and then begun to grill her on what she wanted for a dress. What style: A-line, trumpet, empire, sheath, ball gown? What colour: white, ivory or cream? Did she want a long train, or short? What length of veil would she wear, or did she prefer a tiara? Elle listed fabrics: silk, chiffon, and duchesse satin. It all made Nell's head spin.

"How about we just try some dresses on and see what we like?" Susan said after catching the panicked look on her daughter's face.

"Of course." Elle flashed a smile as she looked Nell over. "I'll pull a few different styles to give you an idea."

"That would be lovely," Susan replied.

"Right this way, Miss Jones," Elle said as she turned and walked away.

Susan gave her daughter a little push. Nell nearly tripped but found her footing and followed Elle.

"This is not going to go well," Steven muttered from behind the bridal book he'd picked up.

"There will be no negativity here," Susan said sternly as she shot her son a warning glance.

"Nell's not going to handle someone as pushy as she is," Steven remarked evenly. "Either she explodes or overanalyzes until she likes nothing. Either way, we're left with the same result."

"Well, we'll just have to support her," Kensi said wanting the very best for Nell who had asked her to be a bridesmaid. She'd never been a bridesmaid before and took the honour and responsibility with a great sense of pride.

"Agreed," Chloe said with a nod. "Besides, she'll know the dress when she's in it, regardless of how pushy Elle is."

"Oh, look at these." Steven ended up quickly distracted from the argument and turned the book. "Just look at the drapery on those bridesmaid's dresses. Not that you need it," Steven remarked, his eyes studying Kensi. For once she felt like he was trying to dress her with his eyes and not the other way around like most men. Then again, Kensi could recall Callen saying that one of Nell's brothers was gay. "Chloe will though."

"Ouch," Chloe pouted her hands rubbing over her protruding stomach.

"When they get married, you'll have a newborn," Steven said evenly, clearly not noticing how hurt his sister had become. "I'm just saying."

"Well, don't," Chloe had tears in her eyes, her lips pressed together in anger.

Christian noticed the glossiness in his wife's eyes immediately and groaned. "Really, Steve?" He absolutely hated seeing his wife upset. "She's hormonal, leave her be."

"Hormonal!" Chloe's voice pitched, her eyes widening at her husband.

"He doesn't mean it in a bad way," Alan tried to soothe his daughter.

"How do you mean hormonal in a good way?" Chloe whined.

Kensi cringed as the men continued to make it worse. She looked around for something to distract the pregnant woman. Her dark eyes found Nell and her breath caught. "Oh, look," Kensi said, taking Chloe's hand in her own. "Nell's back."

Chloe blinked away the tears and smiled as she looked at Nell in a wedding dress for the first time.

Nell could hardly breathe, the dress tied at the back too tightly. Corseted, sweetheart neckline, ball gown. It weighed a ton and presented difficulties when walking. She tried not to step on the hem, but the dress made her feel clumsy.

She stood on the platform. Her mother dabbed tears with a Kleenex. "Oh, Nell," Susan said. "You look beautiful."

Alan put an arm over his wife and looked at his daughter with adoration. "Our girl's all grown up."

Kensi stood upon seeing the look on Nell's face in the mirror. She didn't need to be a special agent trained to read body and facial language to know what Nell felt. "You don't like it," Kensi noted with certainty.

Nell looked to her friend and sighed. "Not even a little."

"What don't you like about it?" Elle asked.

Nell looked at herself in the mirror. She tried to pick out what thing threw her off, what made this dress wrong for her. She couldn't make a cohesive list she let out a sigh. "Everything; nothing is right."

Elle sighed at the vagueness but didn't press. "Alright, let's try something else."

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1125 HRS: NCIS WASHINGTON, DC FIELD OFFICE**

Gibbs and Callen, along with all the other leaders at the conference, were finally released for lunch.

"So what's good to eat around here?" Callen asked as he followed Gibbs down the stairs at the DC office.

"There is a great coffee cart across the street," Gibbs replied as they walked over to his team. "Bagel and sandwich shop a block north."

"Lunch, boss?"

Callen studied the man who sat behind the nearest desk. "You must be DiNozzo," he said with certainty.

"I would be," DiNozzo said, standing and extending his hand. "Must make you Callen."

"I am," Callen replied, shaking the man's hand. He'd heard many things, mostly good, a few hilarious, from Gibbs.

"Callen." McGee came in from the back with Abby. "Good to see you."

Callen nodded his head in McGee's direction. "Good to see you, too, Tim."

"G Callen!" Abby closed the space between them with quick steps in her black platform boots. She wrapped her arms around his neck quickly.

McGee felt a bit of jealousy upon seeing Abby hugging Callen, even though he knew he shouldn't. Abby had a case of hero worship when it came to G Callen ever since he saved her life. They were friends, and if what Gibbs had said earlier in the week was true, Callen would be married soon.

"Abby Sciuto," Callen smiled as he held the younger woman. "Good to see you. I hope you're staying out of trouble these days." The last time he saw her, he'd had to save her from a serial killer.

"I try," Abby replied playfully as she took a step back. "I got the Save the Date! I'll be there. I'm so excited. Have you gotten everything done yet? I know weddings are a lot of work."

"Cool it, Abs," Gibbs warned with a smile.

"Well," Callen scratched the back of his head. "Nell's handling most of it."

Ziva came in quietly, looked to DiNozzo and raised an eyebrow. "Ziver," Gibbs said, nodding his head. "This is Special Agent G Callen."

Callen turned and offered his hand. "Ziva David," he said with a warm smile. "I've heard good things."

Ziva looked to Gibbs before she returned her gaze to the agent and shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"So, lunch?" DiNozzo looked around at everyone with a childish smile.

"To the elevators!" Abby said dramatically, pointing at the silver doors with great enthusiasm.

Callen smiled and merged in with the close-knit group.


	34. Brides and Bagels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading :)

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1155 HRS: RYERSON BRIDAL BOUTIQUE**

Susan, Kensi and Chloe all stood around Nell, who wiped tears from her eyes. "I'm just frustrated," Nell admitted. Her hands smoothed over the lovely satin layer of the dress she currently wore in the changing room. She couldn't deny the dress's beauty, but she didn't feel it, _the bride moment_ \- that moment of knowing absolutely 'this is the dress, this is what I'm going to wear when I marry the man I love.'

"We'll find the dress," Chloe insisted in a confident manner. Her hands ran over Nell's hair trying to soothe her sister.

"What if I'm looking too hard?" Nell said. She had already tried on nine gowns of all different styles but each one just left her feeling more and more anxious. She felt uncertain the dress of her dreams existed. "The dresses are all so beautiful. What if I'm waiting for some moment of clarity that will never happen?" She sighed as she looked at the beautiful white dresses Elle had picked out for her. "Maybe I should just pick one from a hat."

"No!" Chloe screeched, clearly appalled by the suggestion. She shook her head. She knew her sister was logical to a fault and didn't believe in fairy tales, but Chloe really wanted Nell to have a moment of pure fantasy.

"We will find you your perfect dress, Nell," Susan insisted calmly. She hated to see her daughter so upset. Bridal shopping should be fun, but every dress, every tiara, every veil only seemed to put Nell more on edge.

"There are plenty of other stores," Kensi said. She felt bad for Nell. There were three dresses that Kensi had loved on Nell, ones she thought would be perfect. Just one look at Nell's face, though, and she knew they weren't THE dress. Nell needed to be the one who felt as stunning as she looked. "There is no shortage of dresses. We will find yours, and you will have your bride moment."

Nell felt silly, childish even. Logically, the dress wasn't important. She would be marrying G Callen and that was the important part. Emotionally, she yearned for that white dress of her dreams, even if her dreams were inconsistent. She wanted to be beautiful; she wanted to feel like a princess for the day.

"The appointment is over." Nell hated that she sounded whiny but couldn't flatten her voice. "What if I just can't find a dress?"

"You will," Chloe stated resolutely. Her hand smoothed over her stomach as her child kicked. "Even if we have to go to every boutique in Los Angeles, we are finding you your dress!"

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1234 HRS: C.J.'S BAGELS**

Callen enjoyed sitting with Gibbs's team during lunch. Tim made for intelligent conversation; Abby's bright personality lit up the room; and Tony and Ziva's banter reminded him of Kensi and Deeks. Gibbs just shook his head as Tony tripped over his words, and Ziva just raised an eyebrow as if daring him to attempt to continue.

Being that he spent a great deal of time studying people, he couldn't help but notice the sidelong glances McGee kept shooting Abby. Abby's bubbly personality kept her all over the board- paying attention to Gibbs during conversation, joining Ziva in teasing Tony- but she also seemed to have some reciprocating feelings toward McGee if the casual touches and sweet smiles were anything to go by.

Callen finished off his toasted twelve-grain bagel which had been converted into a sandwich filled with a thick slice of cheese, lettuce, tomato and bacon. While already full, he kind of wanted another one.

"Hey, Callen, I hear OSP has an entire wardrobe section," Tony commented. "Any Bond suits?"

"Really, Tony?" Ziva cut her eyes to him but her lips turned slightly into a small smile.

Callen chuckled. "You'd have to ask Hetty. " Callen gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I don't pay much attention to that. Besides, if there are, I doubt she'd let me wear one. I have a nasty habit of returning clothes to wardrobe in less than stellar condition."

"You have to take care of a good suit," Tony said, shaking his head.

Callen shrugged. "You tell that to the bad guys, see how well that goes for you."

He found himself checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time of the day. While Gibbs had offered him the couch, Callen wanted to get back to Los Angeles.

"The conference is going to be starting up again soon," Callen commented with a long-suffering sigh. "What do you think Vance would do if we skipped it?"

"You'd get an earful," McGee replied as he wiped his hands on a napkin.

"Possible disciplinary action," Ziva responded coolly.

"You mean this conference isn't disciplinary?" Callen asked, raising his eyebrow jokingly.

Gibbs shook his head and grabbed his tray as he stood. "Come on, G, we're going to be late."

"Oh, wouldn't that be a pity." Callen rolled his eyes as his sarcastic nature got the best of him.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1315 HRS: MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

Deeks sat on the floor in the nursery. Aaron spoke nonsensically and made grand motions with his hands as bounced a bit in his diaper. Deeks laughed a little and Aaron smiled at him, joining in. The toddler rolled his weight to all fours so he could crawl over to Deeks. With a hand on Deeks's knee the kid started babbling.

"He's going to be like you," Ray said, leaning in the doorway. "Never shuts up."

"I was a quiet kid," Deeks corrected, flashing his old friend a smile. "It was you who got me into fast talking."

"Please," Ray scoffed. "You never could keep your mouth shut in your teenage years, and nothing you said was ever the truth."

Deeks shrugged. He couldn't really argue. His teenage years were a blur of school, work and bad decisions. His poor mother really had her hands full with him. He grimaced even thinking about her and focused his attention on Aaron, who'd gotten to his feet still holding Deeks's knee for stability as he wobbled on unsteady legs.

"How are the twins?"

"Good," Deeks replied, thankful for the change in topics. "How much longer do you think they can stand being in the same place?"

"Not long," Ray responded with a laugh. "For two people who share DNA, they couldn't be more different."

Deeks disagreed. Beyond their physical similarities and despite their inability to co-inhabit, they were both loyal, dependable, and intelligent. While Jax was more professional, Delany landed on the more friendly side. They had plenty of similar traits. Perhaps that was the problem.

"Laney still mooning over that friend of yours?" Ray asked, picking up some of the toys that Aaron had left scattered across the nursery.

Deeks smiled. "They're dating."

Aaron watched his father intently putting toys back into a colourfully painted bin.

"Is it serious?" Ray asked with a raised eyebrow.

Deeks understood why Ray had inquired. Delaney had never been of sexual interest to either of them despite the fact that pretty much everyone else looked at her that way. Deeks figured it was because they had watched her grow up; they knew her innocence and empathy. They watched out for her like one would an adored little sister. They watched her sprout up through her awkward pre-teen years, grow more confident and flirty in her teenage years and ultimately knew the intelligence and savvy that carried her into her adult years. They still remembered the purity of the little girl with an open heart and neither even thought to corrupt it.

The question hung in the air as Deeks considered what little he knew. Delaney seemed joyful in their brief phone conversations lately. Nate seemed to have more pep in his step. They seemed happy.

"Might be," Deeks admitted. Frankly, if both of them were happy, he would be happy for them. Deeks hadn't been sure after losing Evan that Delaney would be so willing to give her heart out again. He should have known better.

Aaron waved his arms about and blew a spit bubble. Deeks had a brief moment of longing, of paternal desire to start his own family. He and Kensi were a long way from even talking about kids, but he felt hopelessly optimistic. The thought made him think of Kensi and he missed her even more.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1420 HRS: BEAUTIFUL BRIDES**

Nell Jones had a headache. Her day had consisted of hours of being manhandled into big white dresses. She had left the house optimistic. Her first appointment couldn't be called anything less than a disaster. She'd had lunch with her family and Kensi, and it had been a brief respite. She tried to maintain more realistic expectations for her second appointment at Beautiful Brides.

She had asked for a moment. The consultant had left her alone in a changing room, standing on a lift in front of a mirror. The dress she wore fit beautifully, looked absolutely stunning. The ivory looked wonderful against her skin tone and didn't wash her out. The cascades of ruffles managed to look both glamorous and playful. Lace ran from the top of the bodice in a V-shape and travelled all the way down her arms. She couldn't find a single thing wrong with it. The dress, by all definitions, was beautiful.

She stomped her foot, and her hands balled into fists. It didn't make sense. Why couldn't she picture herself walking down the aisle in this dress? Why didn't she feel like the dress looked? The dress complimented her; it didn't swallow her up like so many of the others. She could find no reason why the dress couldn't be 'the one.'

Upon the realization that she was acting like a temperamental child she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. She tried to find her center, to find some sense of clarity. She pushed her hands through her hair, causing the short strands to stick up in all directions. "Why is this so hard?" she whispered to herself.

She turned and studied her body in the dress in profile. Still just as stunning from the side. She huffed out a breath. She looked at the price tag once again, still on budget. Pressing her lips together, she put her hands on her hips and glared at herself in the mirror.

Two knocks on the door had her turning. Susan stepped in and shut the door behind herself. "The consultant told me that you requested a minute. Is everything okay?"

Nell sighed, picked up the dress and managed to step off the stool and take another couple of steps without tripping. She sat down on a chair. Her mother sat down beside her.

"How many dresses did you try on before you knew?" Nell asked, looking over at her mother.

"Three," Susan replied. "The first one I just loved, but I had it in my head that the first dress just couldn't be it. I tried on another two, but it only reaffirmed that the first was for me."

Nell nodded and sighed. "Chloe tried on twenty-three."

Susan chuckled. "You know Chloe."

"On twenty-three she broke down into tears, and we knew it was the one," Nell said, her voice tight with longing.

"I take it you still have doubts about this dress," Susan said. She had been in tears when Nell had come out in it. Steven had fussed over the dress, gushed over its beauty. Chloe and Kensi both got emotional and complimented her on how stunning she looked in it. Alan had gotten all choked up, and Christian had ribbed his father-in-law over it but even he had admired his sister-in-law.

"It's beautiful," Nell said, lacking emotion. "It suits me well, compliments me."

"You sound like you're attending a funeral," Susan said, shaking her head.

"Mom," Nell whined and then bit her tongue as she composed herself. "I can't think of one reason why I shouldn't buy this dress." She ran her hand over the silky fabric. "Everyone loves it. It's beautiful. It's on budget."

Susan took both of Nell's hands in her own. "I can think of a reason." Nell's eyes rose to meet her mother's. "You're not blissfully happy wearing it. I know you're rational, Baby." Susan's thumbs ran over Nell's knuckles in a comforting manner. "But this is an issue of the heart, and your heart isn't in this dress. We'll find it. Don't stress over it."

"This is dress eighteen," Nell said with a frown. "I admit, I just don't think I'm going to find something better."

Susan brushed some of Nell's hair back. "You will."

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1559 HRS: NCIS WASHINGTON DC FIELD OFFICE**

Callen didn't figure he would be getting the kink out of his back anytime soon. Hours stuck in the conference left him with plenty of pent-up energy. He followed Gibbs down to see Ziva, Tony and McGee watching the seconds on the clock with their gear packed up beside their desks.

"Eager to get home?" Callen asked the team with a smile.

"Hot date," Tony replied as he twirled a pencil around his finger. Ziva's eyes narrowed at him.

"Agent Gibbs?" Both Gibbs and Callen turned at the sound of the director's voice.

"Director," Gibbs replied with a nod of his head. Vance held out a file. Gibbs took it and flipped it open.

"Home time!" Tony jumped out of his seat and grabbed his bag in one fluid movement. He turned to McGee. "Got any plans, McHomebody?"

"Dead marine," Gibbs interrupted as he flipped through what little information the Director had been able to give him. "Get your gear."

Tony groaned. "But it's after six."

"Are you arguing, DiNozzo?" Vance asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ziva pressed her lips tightly together as she tried not to snicker.

"No, no, not arguing Director," Tony said, dropping his bag and opening his drawer to pull out his gun and his badge.

"Good to hear it," Vance said, shaking his head slightly. He held out a hand to Callen. "Have a safe flight home, Agent Callen."

"Thank you, Director," Callen replied, briefly shaking the Director's hand.

"Guess I won't be driving you to the airport," Gibbs said to his old friend.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get a cab," Callen replied. "It was good to see you, Jethro."

"Good to see you, too, G." Gibbs smiled. The two men hugged briefly, and Gibbs clasped a hand over the shorter agent's shoulder. "I'll see you soon."

Callen shifted his weight and smiled. "Won't be long now."

"Any doubts?" Gibbs asked. As a man with multiple ex-wives, he had to ask. He caught the brief dazed look on his friend's face and smiled. The man had it bad.

"Not a one," Callen replied.


	35. Good Company

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 1812 HRS: BLYE RESIDENCE**

"So, no dress," Sierra commented. She extended her hand to take the glass of water offered. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, and no, she didn't find a dress," Kensi replied, sitting down with her back against the arm of her well-worn couch so she could face her friend as they talked.

Sierra took a sip of the water before she put it down on a coaster. "She will."

Kensi nodded. "I know. It was just hard. She had such optimism at the beginning of the day, and, by the end of it, you could tell she just wanted to go home."

"Weddings are stressful," Sierra responded, and Kensi raised a questioning eyebrow. "What? I was the maid of honour at three weddings." Sierra gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Women get a little crazy and emotional during that time."

"Nell isn't the bridezilla type."

"Didn't say she was," Sierra said, shaking her head, a blonde strand of hair falling from behind her ear. "But women don't react rationally when their fantasy wedding is at stake. Every detail has to be perfect. The wedding is a prelude to the marriage." Sierra picked up her glass and took a small sip. "I think it just snowballs. First, it's the cocktail hour, then it's napkin rings, and then it's a midnight buffet that no one is going to eat. It's chandeliers and eight-tier cakes." Sierra shrugged and put the glass back down. "Even the most rational woman can fall under the wedding daze."

"I wouldn't," Kensi said with utmost confidence.

Sierra smirked and bit her lip for a second to keep from laughing. "Yeah, okay." Sarcasm and sheer disbelief coloured her voice.

"I wouldn't," Kensi insisted, her chin raised. "What about you?" She expected Sierra to go on the defensive, to say that she too wouldn't fall under the wedding spell.

Sierra shrugged, a blush warming her cheeks. "I'd try not to," she said, her voice soft and dreamy. "But I think I would just want every detail to be perfect. I wouldn't want a single worry for me on that day. I would want everything planned to the tee."

Kensi watched her friend's face soften. Sierra's blue eyes met her dark ones, and she gave an embarrassed smile.

"It's not going to happen," Sierra said quickly and picked at a hole in her jeans. "But what girl doesn't dream of a white dress and her own Prince Charming?"

"Not going to happen?" Kensi scoffed. "It could very well happen."

"Nah," Sierra shook her head once more, her eyes on the exposed patch of skin through the hole in her jeans. "I think that one's out of the cards."

The brunette agent pressed her lips together. Her friend had gone through hell and back. If anyone deserved a slice of simple happiness, it was Sierra. "Why? I've seen you and Noah together-"

Sierra's eyes flicked up to meet Kensi's, her posture going on the defensive. "We're just," Sierra cut in, only to trail off herself. She sighed, her eyes dropping back to the denim she picked at. "We're friends."

Kensi raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Just friends?"

Sierra wanted to be more; some days she even thought that she could be. "I stopped daydreaming a long time ago. Realistically speaking, my being in a stable, normal relationship might never happen." She'd been doing well lately, but that didn't mean that it would stay that way. She kept waiting for her nightmares and demons to pop up again.

"I don't know." Kensi kept her voice calm and even, not wanting to push Sierra too far. "You and Noah seem pretty 'friendly.'"

"We are," Sierra's voice strained. "It's just…" She huffed out a breath trying to find the right words. "I keep waiting for him to give up on me."

Kensi sat a little straighter, her eyes widening in surprise. "Sierra, I really don't think he's going anywhere."

"Kens." Sierra bit her bottom lip before ploughing on. After all, if she couldn't talk to one of her oldest girlfriends, someone who knew her secrets, then who could she go to for counsel? "What if he wants kids?"

Kensi realized quickly that the topic was a sheet of thin ice. "Do you… want kids?"

Blue eyes welled with tears and Sierra pouted slightly. She shrugged. "There was a time when I did," she whispered softly. "I just, I'm not sure I can do… _that_." Kensi understood what 'that' was, and she sighed. "Noah is great with me. He's kind and he's patient and he looks at me and he sees _me._ He knows what I went through and he still wants me." Sierra tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It's just that I don't know that there is ever going to be a time when I'm okay enough to be in a relationship. I let him get closer and closer. I want him and I need him but at the end of the day I don't think I'm what he needs. I can't help but think I'm just holding him back."

Kensi didn't know much about Agent Noah Faraday. They had sparred on occasion and played a few rounds of basketball so she knew of his competitive nature. From Sierra, she grasped his kind and thoughtful qualities. From Renko, she knew of his intelligence. She couldn't vouch for the man from that. She did, however, know that he had been there at the hospital with Sierra when every other agent, herself included, hadn't known what to say or do.

"He's always been there." Kensi kept her tone light and comforting.

Sierra nodded. "According to him, he isn't going anywhere, and I appreciate that, I do." She felt like she needed him like she needed her next breath. "I just worry that he's missing out on something because of me."

"Sierra-"

The blonde mechanic raised her hand to cut her friend off. "It's okay. I'm selfish enough to keep him around anyway." She pouted slightly. "I figure he's smart enough to cut ties eventually."

"Don't say that. From the way you talk about him, I don't think you're giving him enough credit where it counts."

Sierra's eyes widened and then she looked down at her lap and frowned. "I guess." Desperate for a change in subject, she looked over at Kensi. "So, whose sweater is that?"

"Mine," Kensi lied.

Sierra's blue eyes narrowed. "I used to be an agent, and we've been friends too long for you to get away with that kind of lie."

"It's Marty's," Kensi admitted on a sigh.

"So?"

"So we're on the down low, okay?"

Sierra smiled. "I'm happy for you," she said softly.

"Thanks," Kensi replied, her fingers curling over the too long ends of the sleeves. The sweater made her feel closer to her partner- hints of his cologne still lingered along with the scent of salt water.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8: 2355 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Going through security and waiting around for his flight at the DC airport had been a mild annoyance. The five hour and ten minute direct flight to LAX had been spent in inpatient boredom. He skipped luggage claim as he had stuffed everything he would need into a carry-on bag. That didn't help him get a taxi any quicker, though. Finally getting back to his own neighbourhood, Callen felt exhausted. He paid and tipped the taxi driver before getting out of the vehicle.

The porch light burned, he smiled. He pulled his keys from his pocket and let himself into the house. He locked up and turned off the porch light. He felt around in the dark until his hand came upon the decorative glass bowl on the side table. He dropped his keys in it and heard them clink against Nell's set.

He dropped his bag by the door, deciding he could put it all away in the morning. Knowing the place well enough in the dark, he didn't bother with any of the lights. He felt his way along, his fingertips grazing against the wall, counting doorframes until he got to the room he shared with his fiancée.

As quietly as possible, he opened the door and slipped in. He felt a subtle breeze and shook his head. He shut the door behind himself and made his way across the room. He pushed aside the drapes and shut the window, clicking the lock into place.

He stripped off his shirt, jeans and socks before falling onto his side of the bed.

The rhythm of Nell's breaths changed. She inhaled deeply and rolled over. "Welcome home," she muttered almost incoherently in her sleep.

 He smiled and kissed her temple. His entire body relaxed in the familiar setting. Feeling comfortable and content with the body that slept next to him, he fell into a peaceful sleep.


	36. Beginnings & Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading!

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0523 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

Cooper yawned and rubbed his eye with his free hand. Emma occasionally had those mornings when she woke up insanely early, refused to go back to sleep and decided that he should have to be up with her.

"Do you have any eights?" Emma asked, looking at him over her cards. Her hair curled and waved in an incredible gravity-defying display of bedhead.

"Go fish," he replied, pushing back his hair, aware that his probably didn't look any better.

She pouted but drew a new card. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have to work today?"

"Yes," Cooper replied. "Do you have any twos?"

She glared at him but gave him two cards.

He put those two with the two he already had and set them aside.

"Can't you stay home?" she requested softly.

"No, I can't, Shortcake," he replied with a frown. He wished he could be around more for his daughter but there was only so much he could do. "I'll be home Monday as long as nothing comes up. Tuesday, too."

She sighed. "Any threes?"

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0600 HRS: BEALE/SHAW RESIDENCE**

Eric got out of bed and stretched. Being a surfer and working at OSP ensured that he woke early even on his days off. A chill ran through him as a cool breeze came from the slightly open window. He grabbed a discarded hoodie and pulled it over his head before he walked out of the room, nearly tripping on the pajama bottoms.

Since Bethany hadn't been in bed, he worriedly looked around for her. He almost expected her to have fallen victim to morning sickness yet again so he checked the bathroom, but it was empty.

He found her in the living room, a table light on, flipping through a magazine. She caught him staring and smiled. "Hey."

"Good morning," he replied as he walked across the room. He took a seat beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"A little woozy," she admitted as her hand traced over a page. "Look at this one!"

Eric looked at the picture in the magazine. A gorgeous mahogany crib stood proud in a powder blue nursery. An old wooden rocker nestled in the corner, a soft grey throw draped over the side. His mind drifted away to daydream about the two of them in a nursery like that with their little bundle of joy.

"It's really beautiful." He looked to the bottom of the page where all of the items were listed and priced. His head spun at the exorbitant expense. He made a decent wage and had benefits, but he couldn't claim that he saved well. His computer constantly needed upgrading to the latest; after all, it was his profession. He loved his apartment- the space, the area- but it cost him greatly to live there. Surfboards and equipment didn't come cheap either.

On a sigh, Eric rested his head on Bethany's shoulder. She smiled and rested her cheek on his head.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0655 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Renko knew very few yoga poses, but he did know that the one Angela moved gracefully into was Downward-Facing Dog. As she breathed out, she lowered into Plank Pose and held it for a few breaths. Her toes moved to point out and then the tops of her feet touched the floor followed by her calves and thighs; her forearms flattened and her head rose to look straight ahead. Her eyes flicked to him, and she let out a breath. "I called the doctor's office yesterday and cleared beginner poses with Zhu," she told him in an annoyed fashion before he could even say anything about it.

"What pose is that?" He gestured to her.

"Sphinx's Pose." She moved back into Plank. As she inhaled her body created the upside down 'v' shape of Downward-Facing Dog. She lowered to her knees and kept her arms straight and in line with her shoulders. "Stop watching me," she demanded. Her back arched up and her neck lowered.

"You look like a cat," he noted.

"It's called Cat Pose," she replied. "And I said stop looking."

He sat on one of the stools in the kitchen but continued to watch her anyway. Her back dipped back down and her hands slid forward until her arms were flat on the ground and her forehead touched the yoga mat, her bottom up in the air. "I like that one," he commented with a lewd grin. "What's it called?"

"Yoga is supposed to be relaxing, Renko." Her words sounded to him as if they came through clenched teeth. "Extended Puppy Pose."

"I thought all these poses had weird names."

"They do. Uttana Shis…" She paused, muttering to herself for a few seconds. "Shis-something. I can't remember." She dropped her bottom down to her heels and her arms swooped back, her hands skimming her feet.

"Child's pose," Renko said. "I know that one."

"Because you're a child," she muttered. "Balasana. I know this one at least."

He grinned and shook his head. "What do you want for breakfast?"

She rose up on her knees and got back to her feet. She'd rather end off in Corpse Pose and take a moment for quiet meditation, but she couldn't take Renko's eyes on her. She knew it would be impossible to meditate with him around.

She walked to the island and placed her hands on the counter. "You're making breakfast?"

He flashed her a smile. "I can cook."

"Yeah, okay," she said teasingly with mock disbelief. "Omelets, make omelets."

"Fine," he replied before gesturing to where her yoga mat remained rolled out. "You done already?"

"You keep watching me."

"So?"

She shrugged and ducked her head in a self-conscious fashion. "Having someone watch makes it far less relaxing."

He smiled when he noticed that her cheeks were pink.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0705 HRS: LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT**

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" Nate asked as he pulled Delaney's suitcase from the trunk of his car.

She'd already returned her rental and asked him for a ride. She had considered asking her brother to take her, but she always had the hardest time saying goodbye to him, and didn't want to cause a scene at the airport. She figured with Nate she could keep it together, and besides, the inner romantic wanted it to be him to see her off.

She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. "The agreement on my rental is nearly up. I have a couple of properties to sell off, but I can stay in them until they're sold." She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes when she felt them prick with tears. "Market isn't what it used to be, but it is Manhattan so I shouldn't do too badly."

Nate thought her words were coming out a little too formally for her. "Well," he said, stepping up to her and setting the suitcase down on the walkway. He stood before her and caressed her cheek. "I'll miss you."

A hiccup turned into a sob as her arms wrapped around his neck and her head rested on his shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around her waist. "Oh, Nate. I'm going to miss you." She sniffled and clung. "I'm sorry, I'm terrible at goodbyes."

"This isn't goodbye," Nate responded, rubbing small circles on her back.

"It is so," Delaney replied, pulling out of the hug. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout but she was thankful that she hadn't gone into a full blown crying jag. "Even if it is just for a little while."

His hand soothed over her hair. "I'll call you."

She managed a little smile and nodded. "Yeah." She didn't want to talk anymore out of fear that further speech would only encourage the sobs that wanted to break free. She didn't want to leave Los Angeles, didn't want to leave her brother, or Nate, or Deeks, who would be back soon. She grabbed her suitcase. "See you," she managed softly, her eyes watering. She got annoyed with herself but couldn't keep them back.

He nodded. She turned and pulled her suitcase in tow.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0733 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Angela watched Renko wash dishes. She appreciated a man who could cook and had no qualms about cleaning up after himself. She smiled to herself as she watched from her perch on one of the stools. His eyes met hers briefly; a smile flirted upon his face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he scrubbed the frying pan.

"Alright," she replied.

"You notice anything giving you pain while you were going through your routine?" He asked, nodding his head toward the yoga mat.

"Muscles felt a little tight, not quite as flexible as usual but it's mostly from being out of practice for so long," she replied honestly. "A bit of pulling around where I was shot, but it isn't painful so much as it is annoying."

He looked over at her, studying her face. "Do you feel comfortable with starting hand-to-hand? Not sparring," he tacked on quickly. "But basics of doing the moves?"

She nodded.

"Are you agreeing because you feel ready or because you're pushing yourself?"

"Mike, I'm fine. Really. I won't push it, I promise." More than anything, Angela wanted back on the team. She didn't like Jessica Sterling watching _her_ partner's back. She didn't like spending all her time bored at home. She didn't like that the boredom only left her with time to think, and thinking led to dwelling on the past. "I have an appointment with Nate in the afternoon. We're having it here."

"Here?"

"Yeah, it was his request." She shrugged. "It makes sense." As a negotiator she knew how much you could tell about someone from being in their home. Sometimes a picture on the fridge or a locked bedroom of a deceased child could tell you more than hours of talking to someone. People lied. Their homes did not. "He wants to see how I live."

"What will this place tell him?" Renko asked, knowing that with a background in negotiations she would have to know some psychology.

She tried to consider her place from an outsider's perspective. "It's more what my place doesn't say," she replied softly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, draining the water and rinsing suds from his hands.

"No pictures of family or friends on the wall. No art. Colours are muted. No television or books. Functional but uninviting."

He knew of one spot in the place that had some personality, her bedroom. "The flowers?"

"Significant," she replied. She shrugged. "But meaningless to anyone but me."

"Tell me," he requested.

She met his gaze but shook her head.

He frowned but understood that pushing at her boundaries wouldn't get him anywhere. "Alright," he said. "I'm going to get ready for work. Shouldn't be much going on this morning. If there was I'd have already gotten a text from Kimi. Want me to show you a few things in the gym?"

She gave a small smile, grateful that he had dropped the questions. She gave a nod and watched him walk off.

She pressed her lips together, wondering just what Nate would make of the fact that her guest room had men's clothing in the drawers. She also doubted that it would get past Nate just whose clothes they were.


	37. Lies We Tell, Truths We Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to the wonderful JET1967 for proofreading :)

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 0745 HRS: NCIS:OSP GARAGE**

Noah Faraday knew a bit about cars. The first car he ever owned had been ten years old when he'd gotten his hands on it. He couldn't afford anything better and certainly couldn't afford a mechanic to fix it up. He knew people, though, and, for a few favours, he could get the car fixed up and it would run for another couple of months. He stuck around, watched, learned from others. He wouldn't call himself a 'gear-head', but he'd learnt a thing or two about how to keep a vehicle running.

It also meant he knew a thing or two about how to make a car stop running.

Driving with a botched drive-belt wasn't particularly dangerous. It screeched a bit but everything was still operational; after all he hadn't switched out his perfectly good drive-belt for a _total_ piece of crap.

He drove to the OSP garage and idled outside of the second bay. The doors were all open, letting in a nice breeze to clear out the stagnant air. He poked his head in and gave a wave to Cedric, one of the older mechanics.

"G'morning, Agent Faraday," Cedric greeted before poking his head back under the hood of the SUV in the fourth bay that he was working on. "Sounds like your truck needs a check-up."

"Yeah, sounds like," Faraday replied, a little distracted. He huffed out an impatient breath when he didn't see Sierra immediately. He hadn't sabotaged his own truck for fun; he'd done it as an excuse to spend a couple minutes with her before work. He wanted it to be on her turf in hopes that it would put her more at ease with him. "Is Sierra around?"

"Yes, she is." Cedric smiled and pointed down the garage. "She's under that ol' Camry in the first bay."

Faraday gave a nod and walked away. He saw Sierra's feet poking out from under the blue Camry that had seen better days. He listened to her mutter for a minute and smiled. He crouched down by her feet. "Hey, something is wrong with my truck."

Sierra grabbed the undercarriage of the vehicle and used it to propel the wheeled board she laid on out from under the car. She looked up at Noah and noted the 'high and tight' style his hair now had. He wore it longer than most marines would but the style remained the same. "You got your hair cut."

"About time, too," he replied, running his hand through the blond strands. When working big cases, some things got moved to the back burner- things like haircuts, grocery shopping and sleep.

"Looks good," she complimented, admiring his handsome face.

He shrugged. He didn't do it for fashionable reasons; it just bothered him when his hair touched his ears or the back of his neck or, God forbid, the odd occasion during a cover where it got so long as to get into his eyes.

"I guess you're a little busy with this car."

"It's a pet project," Sierra replied as she sat up. "Fixin' him up from spare parts from agent wrecked cars." She twisted and rubbed the bumper affectionately. "I've named him Frankenstein."

He smiled and tucked his head slightly in an attempt to hide his amusement.

She grinned and shook her head. "So, your truck is giving you troubles?"

"Yeah, it's making some God awful noise."

"I'll take a look at it." She told him as she moved to stand. He extended his hand to her. She stared at it and the wave of panic felt like a punch to the gut. "My hands are greasy," she informed him. She got her feet on solid ground and pushed back up to her feet.

He huffed out a breath. She knew that he couldn't help the borderline annoyance he felt when she denied him something so simple.

"You're wearing a nice suit." She pushed the topic, trying to force him into believing that her dirty hands were the reason she didn't want to touch him. The comment was true enough; the dark charcoal suit looked like it had been tailored just for him. The white collared shirt was crisp and pressed. The striped grey and green tie brought the outfit together and gave it a personal touch.

Despite it being 'true enough', it wasn't the total truth. The fact remained, putting her hand in his still required a huge leap of faith every single time, and she worried that the simple touch would leave her jumpy for the rest of the day or send her staggering back with flashbacks.

He knew that pushing the topic wouldn't bode well for either of them, so he dropped it. They walked over to the truck. She extended her hand expectantly for the keys. He dug the keys from the pocket of his trousers and put them into her hand, ensuring that his fingertips grazed her palm. Her wary eyes narrowed. She should have known better. Faraday was nothing if not tenacious.

She shook her head and carefully got into the cab, not wanting to get any marks on the interior. She started up the truck and cringed at the noise. She figured she already knew the problem, but she'd drive it in and give it a thorough look as she always did with the vehicles brought under her care. She got the truck some space in the lot and backed into the second bay, cautious with the side mirrors. She turned off the ignition and put the keys in the cup holder before she jumped out.

"I think it's your drive-belt," she told him.

"Is that bad?" he asked with feigned ignorance as he followed her to the front of the truck. He didn't have to fake the curiosity he had while studying her.

She grabbed a step stool, got on it and opened the hood. "Can be if it snaps," she replied, becoming distracted as he stepped up beside her. The clean scent of his cologne mingled with the generic garage scents.

"Is that it?" He pointed to one at the side.

"Uh." She shook her head, coming back to herself. "Yeah, it is a drive-belt. They work things like the cooling system, windshield wipers and your power steering. Since your truck is pretty old, it runs on multiple drive-belts. Newer vehicles work with a serpentine-belt that winds through and runs all systems instead of multiple drive-belts. That one is for your windshield wipers. It looks fine. "

"So…" He rocked back on his heels. "Which one is the screaming banshee?"

She grinned at the analogy. "It's the one for your power steering, which in time could have become a big problem. It's a good thing you brought it in." She stepped down from her step stool and walked over to the computer station past the first bay.

She felt him looming over her shoulder when she sat down on the stool. His hands went to the desk on either side of her and, while she could feel the heat of him, he didn't touch her at all. Her hands froze over the keys. "You okay?" he asked, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath.

"Yeah, fine," she replied, trying to remember what kind of truck he drove. She knew damn well what truck he drove- she'd ridden in it, driven it once or twice. She could name the car of every agent in the building. His truck just simply slipped her mind, and it was all his fault!

He drove her to distraction, pushed her and pulled her mentally and left her on uneven, unfamiliar ground. He refused to leave her on her tiny little island of familiarity and comfort. She shut her eyes and pictured the truck. She quickly typed the make and model into the search section of the OSP parts menu. One result.

She looked over her shoulder and up at him. "You're lucky that we have one in stock that will fit. I should have it switched out and running as good as new in no time."

He checked his watch and realized he needed to clock in before Hetty ripped him a new one. He kissed Sierra on the top of her head. "Thanks. I'll see you later."

She turned to watch him walking toward the back exit of the garage. She sighed, wishing that things were different, wishing that they could be how they were years ago, before her life had shattered.

Cedric came into view. She gave him a grin. "Got that SUV working yet?"

"Just about. I have to take a break and get in the parts order" he replied, holding up a clipboard. "What's wrong with Agent Faraday's truck?"

"Drive-belt," she replied as she vacated the computer station so Cedric could put his order through.

"Again?" Cedric shook his head, sitting down. "I just changed the one for the power steering about two weeks ago. The guy doesn't have much luck, I guess."

Sierra stared a moment before she stalked off to Faraday's truck. She stepped up on the stool and looked in. Her fingertips trailed over the old worn drive-belt. It certainly wasn't some new piece that Cedric had put in. She laughed and shook her head. "That lying little shit," she muttered, but she couldn't help but smile at the lengths he would go just for an excuse to come see her.


	38. Not So Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to JET1967 for proofreading

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1004 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

As Renko impatiently waited for the coffee to brew, he considered his love/hate relationship with suits. Suits are classy and attention grabbing. Women love a man in a nice suit. During undercover work they usually come with a plush, upscale alias, which Renko always considered a bonus. He usually got the role of 'lowlife' and rarely got the perks of playing the 'rich husband.' Wearing a suit with Hetty at the helm, though, came with repercussions he did not appreciate.

"When the heck did you get your hair cut?" Angela asked from behind him. He turned around and smiled at her, his eyes quickly checking her out. It pleased him to see her wearing her usual dark wash jeans and long sleeved shirts again. Even if they were a little loose now, they still were a sign that she continued to get closer to working with them again. Her eyes betrayed her bright and active demeanor and spoke of her exhaustion.

"Like it?" He ran his hand self-consciously through the seriously shortened locks. It wasn't the 'high and tight' style Noah had, but it happened to be uncomfortably close for Renko's tastes.

Angela shifted from one foot to the other as she considered it. His face seemed slightly more angular without the long hair to soften it, his eyes more prominent. The new haircut didn't add or detract from his good looks but she thought that long hair suit him better. "I don't know. It'll take some getting used to," she admitted. "I don't think I have ever seen your hair so short."

"Well, it was Hetty's doing; I didn't have a say in the matter." Renko leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Apparently I can't be walking around in a handsome Armani suit and have a hobo haircut."

Angela laughed, her eyes trailing over the finely tailored grey suit, white shirt and solid deep green tie that really brought out his eyes. "She said that?"

"More or less," Renko sighed.

Angela's stomach rumbled loudly, and Renko smiled.

"Shut up," she snarled pre-emptively.

Renko kept quiet as he pushed off from the counter he'd been leaning against. He stepped between Deeks and Sam's desks, heading for Kensi's. He knew she kept snacks. He didn't feel too worried about her finding out since only Sam and Faraday were around and he didn't think either would nark.

He rounded Kensi's desk and looked over at Faraday. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Cooper with surveillance equipment?"

"Ry's got it handled," Faraday replied. He sat at Deeks's desk organizing the pens by colour. "Said to make him a coffee." Faraday looked over his shoulder to make sure the machine continued brewing. "So I'm waiting." He turned to look at his team leader and shook his head. "Hey, Sam, what do you reckon Kensi will do to him when she finds out?"

"She won't do a damn thing," Renko spoke up before Sam could get a word in.

Faraday made a 'tsk' sound when Renko pulled out a Twinkie. "I wouldn't take that if I were you," Faraday warned as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Tried it once, lived to regret it."

Sam laughed and abandoned the expense report he'd been working on. "What did she do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Faraday replied darkly.

Sam shook his head. He liked the agents on Renko's team well enough despite not knowing them as closely as he knew other OSP agents. He had played poker with Faraday and Cooper on occasion. Angela seemed more guarded, but in their line of work, he didn't call that a bad thing.

Renko rolled his eyes and walked back to the coffee station.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Faraday muttered under his breath as Renko walked past.

"You worry too much about Kensi," Renko told him as he passed the Twinkie to Angela. "Eat it."

"I'm not-"

"Eat it," he ordered in a low voice. "And then go home and get some rest. You look dead on your feet." He thought about the open case that had just hit his team. "I need you to take care of yourself. Don't give me something else to worry about."

She ate half in silence before she spoke up. "What's the case about?"

"Rich guys with military research are being targeted. They're getting threatened by this new terrorist cell into handing over information," Renko told her as he pulled the coffee pot out and started to pour the freshly brewed drink into a mug. "These guys don't want just the intel but the money, too. They need it."

He passed her the first mug. She took a small sip and grimaced at how bitter it tasted. He didn't bother to tell her to put some milk in it or to load it up with sugar- not with what he knew about Aid and how she had died. She drank it black, and he had no luck convincing her otherwise.

"What aren't you telling me?" Angela pressed, her intelligent eyes trying to read his body language but he'd been trained too well to have obvious tells. Gut instinct alone led her. "What are you leaving out?"

Renko poured his own coffee and took time doctoring it to his liking before he turned back to her. "They use the wives or children as leverage. 'Give me the money and the intel or your wife loses her head on the way to the bank'- sort of threats."

Angela took the last bite of the Twinkie. "These guys serious?" She watched Faraday over Renko's shoulder grab a couple travel mugs and fill them up.

"Yeah, one of the researchers just hung up on the guys. He thought it was some twisted prank," Renko admitted. The guy's daughter had been shot three times on the way to school and had bled out on the sidewalk. He found no reason to tell Angela the gruesome details.

"Did they kill someone in his family?"

"Yes."

Angela nodded. "And you're going undercover," she whispered and then took another sip of the bitter coffee. "With Jessica as your wife."

Faraday didn't have a problem with eavesdropping, information being power and all. He heard the uncertainty in Angela's voice, the agitation at the mention of their latest addition. He doctored the coffees carelessly as he kept shooting glances over at his two teammates. Renko's back had gone rigid. Angela's eyes were hard, her grip on the mug leaving her with white knuckles. Tension rose to the surface, and he experienced a moment of clarity. He shook his head and returned his attention to the coffees, no longer sure which was which.

"Hey," Kensi's sharp voice gained the attention of everyone around. "Who ate my Twinkie?"

"I did," Renko told her, appearing sheepish. He didn't want it to fall on Angela when he had been the one to take the treat in the first place. He had to wonder how Kensi always knew, like she counted before she left.

Faraday started singing Kenny Loggins iconic _'Danger Zone,'_ as he considered the two mugs, trying to remember if his sat on the left or the right.

Angela hid her smile with her mug.

Kensi's eyes narrowed at Renko who shrugged. "I was hungry," he defended lamely.

Angela remained quiet, watching over the rim of her mug as she took a sip of coffee.

The brunette agent crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You would have gone for the Snickers."

"Ah, you got me with those detecting skills," Renko said, walking forward. "It was Noah."

"What?" The blonde haired agent nearly spilt the coffee he'd been about to taste. "It was not!"

Sam gave up on his work once again and sat back in his chair to enjoy the show.

Kensi's hands went to her hips, and she gave a whole new meaning to _'if looks could kill.'_

"Go easy on him, Kens," Renko requested sweetly. "What man can resist the Twinkie box? Besides, I need him in working order. I've already got one out."

"Boys," Cooper shouted on his way through with a suitcase full of surveillance equipment. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Showtime, Renko thought. He turned to Angela. "Good luck with Nate later," he whispered.

"Good luck with the case," she replied. When he turned, her hand shot out quickly to grab his arm. "Come back safe." She let go and returned the hand to the coffee mug.

Renko had a self-satisfied smile on his face as he walked out with Faraday and Cooper.

Kensi gave up complaining about her Twinkie and grabbed one for herself before starting her own backlogged paperwork.

Since Sam had already lost his concentration after being interrupted, he abandoned his seat for a refill on coffee. He figured he should cut back a bit on the caffeine but it was easier said than done. He filled his mug and looked at the little bit left at the bottom. He turned to Angela. "Need topping off?"

"Sure, I could use the extra kick today," she decided and held out her mug.

Sam filled it up and put the coffee pot back. "Are you worried about your team?"

"Always," she replied with a worried smile. "I'm concerned about them when I'm in the field _with_ them, but it's so much worse being sidelined and not knowing what is going on."

"Oh, I know," Sam replied as he fixed up his coffee to his liking. "I'd like to tell you that you don't have anything to worry about, but the job isn't easy. I can say that Mike is one of the finest agents I've ever worked with."

"I know he is an incredible field agent," Angela said as she followed Sam into the bullpen. She took a perch on Deeks's desk while Sam sat back down in his chair. "But I'm his partner; I should be in the field with him."

"Taking the time to heal doesn't mean you're letting him down," Sam stated. In a way, her stubborn desire to work beyond physical limits reminded him of Callen, especially after he'd been shot.

"I know that. Logically, I know that." Angela sighed and set her coffee on the desk. She saw the three piles of pens sitting neatly on the table: red, blue, and black. She scooped them all up and put them back in the tin holder. "Still, it doesn't make the truth any easier to swallow."

"He'll be fine," Kensi insisted as she abandoned her paperwork. "Renko is as stubborn as a mule! You surely know that already though. I've heard you two have had some pretty monumental fights over points of view."

"I hear you and Deeks fight all the time," Angela snapped back in defense.

"Yeah, but we're goofing off," Kensi shot back a mostly true answer. Odd occasions remained where they really were angry with one another, but for the most part their fights were a trivial way to blow off steam. Kensi missed Deeks ever since he'd gone off to visit Ray. She had decided to spend the day doing paperwork to keep her mind off of him. It annoyed her to have him brought up when she was trying so hard to keep her thoughts off of him. "You and Mike, I've heard it's one step away from a forest fire."

"That is a wild exaggeration," Angela retorted coolly. Kensi and Sam both stared at her with similar curious expressions and eyebrows raised. "So, we occasionally have disagreements during a case." Angela threw her hands up in the air. "Big deal."

"If I ever argued with Callen during a case…" Kensi trailed off and stared up at the ceiling. She let out a long whistle. "It wouldn't be pretty."

Angela decided to go for a change of subject, not wanting her partnership to be examined so closely. "I figured you two and Eric would get some time off since half of your team is gone."

"Kensi always falls behind on paperwork," Sam teased. Kensi shot him a dirty look. "I had to come in to fix up an expense report. You know Hetty, down to the penny."

This still didn't explain why Angela had bumped into the lead technical operator earlier in the day. "Kimi told me this morning that some of the systems were getting upgraded," Angela replied. "Is that why Eric is here?"

"Eric always has something to do, whether it is for our team or not." Sam paused to take a sip of coffee. "He is upgrading a bit, or was talking about upgrading some tech- don't ask me what, it's far from my area of expertise. He won't be around much longer, though."

"What do you mean?" Angela sat a little straighter in alarm. "Is he leaving OSP?"

"No, no," Sam shook his head. "I just mean he's only working half the day. He's going to the ultrasound appointment with Bethany."

Flip-flops slapping against the stairs announced Eric descending.

"Speak of the devil," Kensi teased and gave the Twinkie box an enticing shake. "Want some sugary courage?"

"Ha! As if! Like I need more energy right now," Eric said, his face lit up with a huge smile. He would be getting his first view of the baby. He'd hardly slept the night before, his mind too busy and filled with wonder.

"You're having a baby?" Angela said, sounding as dazed as she looked.

"Well, no, not me physically," Eric replied with a look of contemplation. He gave his head a shake, knowing full well what the red haired agent meant. "But, yeah, yeah, Beth and I are having a baby." It overjoyed him in such a way that he wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

Angela's hand skimmed subconsciously over the scar on her abdomen. "Congratulations, Eric!" She managed a small smile. "That is wonderful news."

"Thanks," Eric replied jubilantly.

Angela took a step back. "How far along is she?"

"Eight weeks. We're getting in a little early due to some complications her mother had. The doc wants to make sure the baby is doing well." Eric deflated a bit as he worried about Bethany and the baby's health.

"I'm sure they will both be just fine," Angela said softly as she placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. "You should get going. It'll put your fears at ease."

He gave her a small grin. Although they would say 'hello' to each other in the halls, they rarely had much conversation. "Thank you."

"Let us know how it goes!" Sam demanded.

"And bring us a copy of the ultrasound!" Kensi commanded loudly as Eric waved them off while he walked away.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1200 HRS: MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

"Oh, no, no, no," Deeks protested as he tried to keep enough of a lid on his laughter to defend himself. "That wasn't me!"

"It was so!" Ray insisted as he sat forward in the worn leather chair. "How long were you in detention for that stunt?"

"Three months!" Deeks grumbled, remembering the time smacking chalk erasers together. "I didn't do it, though; it was Evan!"

"That actually makes more sense." Ray laughed and shook his head. "Figures you'd end up getting blamed for it. It was you who threw the cherry bomb down the toilet the month earlier."

"Okay, yeah, that one was me," Deeks relented as he grabbed a chip out of the bowl that rested on the worn coffee table between them. "You're the one who told me to do it."

"You're the idiot that listened!" Ray shook his head and sat back. The basement remained partially finished; renovations weren't his strong suit. A couple of chairs, a big screen for the games (but usually ended up playing ' _Go, Diego, Go!'_ ), a coffee table and a beer fridge in the corner- it suited his liking well enough.

"Half of my worst decisions were because I listened to you," Deeks mused with a little grin. The two men had enjoyed reminiscing about their misspent youth.

"Yeah," Ray had to agree. "But half of those were some of the best times of your life, admit it."

"Name one-"

"Valerie Montenegro."

A rogue smile got loose on Deeks's face. "Yeah, she's one of the best worst decisions."

"Hot as hell," Ray toasted, lifting his beer.

"Psychotic though," Deeks muttered taking a drink of his own beer.

"You live and you learn, Marty."

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1212 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Instead of getting rest like Renko had told her to, Angela sat on one of the barstools at the counter as she gave the Rubik's cube one last turn. "Ha!" she shouted in triumph, causing Sugar to jump up in alarm and bark.

"Sorry, Sug," Angela said, setting the cube down. She turned and crouched down. Her dog came right up and rested her head on Angela's shoulder.

Angela smiled and rubbed the dog down. "Good girl, you're such a good girl," she baby talked since no one was around.

Sugar licked the side of her face and Angela stood up. "Cut it out!" The dog trailed after her as she walked into the kitchen.

She spotted something on the side of her fridge, held there with a magnet. "Renko," she muttered and shook her head. She took down the pizza delivery brochure just as she had with the one for Chinese food and Indian food. There would be no delivery to her house- end of story. She slid out the garbage bin and tossed the sheet in the recycling side.

What would Nate think about that? She slid the garbage and recycling back in and sighed. If she wanted to pass the psychiatric evaluation she'd have to give Nate something. She had spent so much of her adult life burying the past and fighting for a future. She had fears and doubts just like everyone else but didn't want to admit to them. At the same time, she couldn't stonewall Nate or he'd keep her sidelined. The closer it got to the time for their appointment, the more nervous she became.

She had half a mind to mess up the Rubik's cube again, just to keep her hands busy.


	39. The Odds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1259 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA**

"I feel cheated," Noah Faraday mused as he tossed yet another Skittle into his mouth. "Renko and Sterling get to sit around in a villa, _a villa_! They're probably in there sitting on comfortable couches, drinking eighty-year-old wine and what do we get? Surveillance duty."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Ryan Cooper replied with a little smile as he sat back in the driver seat of the plain black car they were running surveillance from. Renko and Jessica were inside their cover home. Ryan took pictures of joggers, cable employees and a real estate agent who walked door-to-door handing out her card.

"My ass is asleep," Faraday continued to complain. "I'm hungry. I've eaten three bags of Skittles-"

"That might be the problem," Cooper cut his partner off. He clicked the camera once, and it took three pictures in rapid succession. "Just how much sugar is in those things?"

"Don't care-"

"And how can you eat them after they were scattered all around that dead guy?" Cooper asked with a grimace on his features as he stared curiously over at his partner.

Faraday looked confused. "What dead guy?"

"You remember that case whe-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I remember," Faraday replied, waving off his partner's explanation. Unbothered, he tossed another Skittle into his mouth.

Cooper shook his head and returned his attention to the villa. He admired the large home and impressive gardens. He figured they got ahold of the property only because of their legendary operations manager. She had a way of moving Heaven and Earth to get things done.

"Speaking of Renko and Jessica, what do you think of her?" Cooper asked as he watched a couple of teenagers doing tricks on their skateboards. Out of habit, he raised the camera and took a snapshot of the pair.

"Jessica? She's alright, I guess," Faraday replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. He played the fence about most things, rarely giving a solid opinion. He had an old habit of feeling out how other people thought. He'd grown up in a rough neighbourhood, having the wrong opinion back then could have had horrible consequences. "Why?"

Cooper sat back in his seat. "When Ange first came to work with us, I didn't want her around."

Faraday sat up a little straighter. "You never said anything."

"There wasn't anything but this gut instinct," Cooper admitted, sounding a bit abashed. "She was so-" Cooper searched for the right word and ended up shrugging. "Guarded. Angry." He ran his hand over the coarse hairs on his chin. "A bit jumpy. _Defective_." He muttered the word with shame. "I didn't want her around Mike."

"Angela is solid." Faraday found himself coming to the female agent's defense, surprised by the wave of anger that came with it. He couldn't explain the kinship he felt with the red-haired agent, but he wouldn't ignore it either.

"I know that now," Cooper growled back. "I didn't know who she was back then. Do you remember how they were during their first months as partners? You can't tell me you didn't worry about that explosive partnership getting someone killed. I mean, it was right after we lost Holden-"

"You don't have to tell me who we lost," Faraday snapped, suddenly feeling as though the air in the car had been sucked out. "He was killed not a foot from us!"

Cooper's grip on the camera left him with white knuckles. "He was my partner." Cooper's voice remained steady but the anger and the grief had it pulled thin. "I remember how he was killed just fine."

Both men remained silent for a moment. They rarely fought, both amicable people. Cooper by nature. Faraday by practice. But now that the lid on Faraday's temper had flown off, he had a hard time getting it back under his thumb.

Cooper ran his hand through his dark curls. "I was wrong about Angela in the beginning. That's what I was trying to get at. Now I have the same feeling about Jessica. I don't want her around. I don't want her partnered with Mike. She might be a good agent. She might have good scores on paper. The Assistant Director of our agency might have vetted for her, but I don't trust her. I don't know if it's because she's taking Angela's place-"

"She isn't taking Angela's place." Faraday fought to keep his voice low as a young mother with a stroller walked by their car. "Angela is coming back."

"I know," Cooper replied while tossing his hands up, exasperated. "When did you get so damn argumentative? I was just trying to see what you thought about Jessica. I trust your opinion of people and I'm afraid I might not be looking at this clearly."

Faraday thought about what he knew of Jessica; he didn't have much to go by. He considered what his instinct told him. "I think she's solid," he admitted. "Look at her scores."

"I've heard about her scores. I'm not asking about scores." Cooper raised the camera to take a picture of the cable guy packing up. "I'm asking what you think."

"Determined." Faraday thought the word summed her up nicely. "She's good, and she knows it."

"Is her ego going to be a problem?"

"Just let me look into my crystal ball," Faraday shot back, his voice full of sarcasm.

Cooper took in a deep breath and counted to three as he got his temper under control. " _Do you think_ her ego is going to be a problem?"

"Don't know her well enough to know if it'll lead to confidence or cockiness," Faraday replied. He understood Cooper's concern. They didn't know Jessica well. Every mission had its own personal brand of danger. They'd worked with Renko long before they all ended up on the same team; bonds had been forged in beer, blood, laughter and violence. They wanted to know he had the best odds of coming out of the mission intact. Angela had already proven her loyalties, and Faraday had absolutely no doubt as to the lengths she would go to keep her partner safe. He recalled watching Angela and Renko earlier in the day, the reactions both had to Jessica while they were talking. Faraday had a suspicion that perhaps their feelings weren't within 'partner' parameters. Wanting to see if Cooper knew anything, he went for shock value. "So, do you think Mike and Ange have been sleeping together?"

Cooper choked on his own saliva and beat his chest with his fist while he coughed. "What?" he rasped once he had breath.

Faraday raised an eyebrow. He knew his partner well enough to know genuine responses from fake ones, and his reaction rang true. Still, he above all trusted his gut. "I was just seeing if you knew anything. There is something there."

"First off, if you want to know something, just ask instead of trying to kill me for your own entertainment," Cooper scolded. Faraday grinned. "Second, there is nothing going on between Renko and Angela. They're just partners."

"Oh, there is something there," Faraday argued.

"No, there isn't," Cooper replied as he lifted the camera and took pictures of a couple walking hand in hand.

"Wanna bet?" Faraday asked.

"We are not betting on this!"

"Because you know I'm right," Faraday taunted with a grin.

Cooper let out an annoyed huff. "Fine! Our usual stakes?"

"Fifty in my pocket, yeah."

"My pocket," Cooper argued. "We're going to need some kind of terms. They're never going to get together. I'm not waiting for the money forever."

Faraday relaxed into the seat and considered what he knew. Cooper wouldn't give a year, too impatient. It had to be reasonable for betting standards and yet still play in his favour. He thought about the partners- their conversations, how they looked at one another, their reactions to dangerous situations and the mentions of Jessica and how Angela got miffed- no- jealous. Faraday smiled. He had pretty good instincts. He figured he knew where and how to give a little push for his own gain. He didn't figure it would be long before they dropped their pretenses and barriers anyway. Keeping each other at arm's length would only eventually hurt them as partners and as a team. "Give them three weeks tops."

"Three weeks?" Cooper raised one thick eyebrow.

"Yeah. I doubt it'll take that long, but I like the breathing room."

Cooper snorted. "Yeah, give yourself enough slack to hang yourself with. Three weeks, and I'll be fifty dollars richer."

Faraday smirked. "Don't count on it."

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1320 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA**

Renko came into one of the sitting rooms in the mansion to find Jessica sitting on a long stylish blue couch painting her toenails a shimmering blue. "If this place was any bigger, I'd need a map," he commented as he went to the high back white chair across from her and sat down.

She smiled up at him. "I know the feeling. I half thought about putting sticky note directions everywhere." She looked back down and painted the last of her toenails. She put the brush back in and tightened the cap. "How long do you think this case will take?"

"My guess would be a couple of weeks," Renko replied as he closed his eyes. He enjoyed listening to the crackling sound the fireplace made. "Might be a few days before we hit someone's radar enough to start digging into my alias." He heard her sigh, and he opened his eyes. She had a frown on her face, her eyes cast down. "What? You going to miss a hot date?"

Her bright eyes lifted to meet his. She shook her head. "No, not a date."

Renko didn't like the timeline on the mission either. With his best friend's trial quickly approaching he wanted to be free to be there, not stuck undercover. "You used to do undercover for the CIA; you must be used to it."

"I am. It's not sharing a house or the actual work. I'm-" She stopped talking and bit her bottom lip. She sighed. "I was supposed to go to dinner at my parents' house this Saturday."

"I'm sure your parents will understand if you postpone a week or two. Surely you have a solid cover story."

"Of course," she replied. "It's just I made a promise to my older brother. I hate breaking it."

Renko couldn't help but take note of the vast differences between Jessica and Angela. Physically speaking they didn't have much in common other than athletic builds. Jessica had way more curves and Angela had the height. Emotionally, Angela remained guarded and getting information was like pulling teeth. Jessica sat before him openly talking about her disappointment and family. "I take it you're close with your brother then?"

"Oh, yeah," Jessica smiled widely. "He's my best friend."

"Then I'm sure he will understand about the job."

Jessica smoothed a hand over the hem of the navy blue dress she wore. She shrugged and looked embarrassed. "I- well- you see…" She tried to start three times but lost her nerve. She put her head in her hands. "I told this little white lie and it's blown back."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "It can't be that bad. What did you say?"

She dropped her hands and sighed. "God, this is so embarrassing," she muttered.

"Now I really want to hear it." Renko flashed her a grin.

"Okay, look. I've lived in California for a while now; my family all live in Nebraska. During my rookie days I got a little injured on the job. It was nothing horrible, but I was bruised all over and not a pretty sight." She sighed and wrung her hands. "I always video call my parents and brothers, and I couldn't very well _not_ do it since they're all so darn overprotective! If I didn't call, they'd assume I was dead. I'm not exaggerating either." Her lively green eyes rolled. "I couldn't tell them I got hurt on the job, so I told them I got mugged."

"I take it that didn't go over well."

"No. My father and little brother both flew in and were on my doorstep the next morning. It took me over a week to send them back and to do it I told a little fib."

"What did you say?"

Jessica grimaced and pushed a hand through her long blonde hair. She cursed softly and groaned as if in pain. "This is humiliating. I told them that I had a boyfriend, that he'd be flying in the next morning and that I would be fine."

Renko figured he was catching on. "But, you didn't have a boyfriend, did you?"

Jessica shook her head. "Anyway, I pushed them out by making them feel guilty about leaving Mom alone with Jake for so long. Of course, she's fine with Jake but he's always much more calm around Dad."

"Jake is-" He let the words hang in question.

"My brother, older by three years," Jessica replied. "He has Down's Syndrome. Never let it stop him, though. He graduated high school with me. I was so proud!"

Renko smiled, a little sadly. "The love of a sibling is really something."

"You have any?" she asked, leaning forward curiously.

A muscle in his jaw jumped. "No."

"Too bad," Jessica replied as she sat back. "I can see you as an overprotective big brother."

His chest felt tight but he breathed through it. "So the dinner?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, getting back on topic. "Once they were out of the house, I kept mentioning that my boyfriend was around. Gave him a name, occupation, you know, the works. I rarely get to see my family due to the distance." She gave a little shrug. "I figured eventually I'd just tell them that Kyle, my imaginary boyfriend, and I wanted different things and that would be the end of it." She shook her head. "I'm doing a terrible job at explaining this. Let me try again. My parents moved to San Diego last month. They invited Kyle and me to dinner. I've been talking about this guy for like a year. Jake has his heart set on meeting him and-"

"You don't want to let him down," Renko finished for her while watching her face become beet red.

"Jake adores me. My family thinks I do paperwork in a law office. That translates to him as I help put bad guys away. He thinks I'm like a superhero," she said with a frown. "He wants me to be happy, and our parents have always shown him that the love of family is what true happiness is all about. He thinks I'm all alone and that equals me being sad. This illusion of me having a boyfriend keeps him from worrying about me so much. I haven't been around in anything more than video calls for almost five years. This seemed the least I could do."

Renko smiled a little. "You're incredibly compassionate. It's a nice thing you're doing for your brother, even at the risk of it blowing back at you."

"Which now, it kind of has. How am I supposed to keep this up with them living so close? And if I 'break up with him,' I'm sure either my dad or Seth- Seth is my younger brother- will end up trying to live with me again."

"What does Kyle do?"

"He's an electrician," Jessica mumbled.

Renko ran his hand through his hair. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I can help you out."

Her deep green eyes turned to him and an eyebrow raised. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"I can put a face to a name. Your family won't have to worry about you, and you can continue living in peace."

She stared in shock, her mouth gaping open. "You'd do that for me?"

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "That's what partners are for."

"Pretending to be boyfriends?"

"Keeping the other out of hot water. Your cover needs to stay intact for you to be able to continue working at OSP. What do you say?"

She let out a sigh that seemed to come from all the way down in her toes. "Thank you."


	40. Forward Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading!

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1330 HRS: MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

Jenna stood at the sink working her way through the pile of dishes. She glanced out the window and saw Deeks sitting in the grass with Aaron. A smile formed on her lips.

Since meeting Ray, her life had become infinitely more interesting. Despite his past, she could see under the layers and knew deep down he was a good man. When she'd discovered that she was pregnant, she had been terrified that he would leave her. She sat him down one day and told him, fearfully wringing her hands. He'd stared blankly for a moment and then nodded. She thought he'd leave, but he kissed the top of her head and explained about the court case he needed to testify in and the protection they were offering. He'd work something out.

She shook her head. Ray Martindale had a terrible idea of 'working it out.' It usually involved bad behaviours. Ultimately though, he and Deeks had ensured that both of them got out of Los Angeles safe and sound. When Ray had requested Deeks as their son's godfather, she had immediately agreed. Watching Deeks outside playing peek-a-boo with her son only solidified that she'd made the right choice.

She rinsed off the last of the dishes and put it in the rack. She thought about her life now in Florida while she dried her hands. They were happy in the Sunshine State. Their modest house felt comfortable and homey. Ray had a good job that didn't make him miserable or fall back to his old ways. He made enough that she could stay home and take care of their son. They couldn't have asked for more.

Abandoning the kitchen for the backyard, she walked out onto the grass barefoot. Deeks pulled his lips with his fingers making silly faces and Aaron let out a delighted laugh.

"You're really good with kids," Jenna commented as she sat down in the grass with them.

Deeks shot her a grin. "Thanks."

Aaron picked at some grass before throwing his arms around a bit. The boy's lively eyes looked around, never staying on any one thing for too long, too excited with all the sights and sounds of the fresh world around him. Jenna ran an affectionate hand over her son's dark curly hair.

"I know your job is dangerous," Jenna whispered softly as a gentle breeze brought the scent of the flowers from the back garden. "But do you ever think about starting a family?"

He looked over at her. She appeared so serene and happy. He felt an overwhelming amount of gratitude toward the woman who loved his best friend and kept Ray's feet on stable ground. Neither he nor Ray had what one would call a 'good upbringing' but they'd turned out all right, all things considered. Now both in their thirties, their wild youths firmly in the past, they looked forward to different things.

"I do," Deeks admitted. "The job does present some complications though."

Despite the dangers of Ray testifying, Jenna couldn't fathom not being with him or not having her son. "Some things are worth the risk, Martin."

Aaron made a discontented sound and started to suck in air. "He's hungry," Deeks said. He'd picked up on Aaron's cues and sounds.

Jenna smiled and picked her boy up. "You're good at this."

For a moment he could see Kensi, her long dark hair in curls and waves, a lovely summer dress with a baby bump. The desire to start his own family hit him quick and hard. He'd love their child, so very much. He imagined Kensi would be a tough but loving mother. He wanted to have what he didn't when he was a child- stability, a house of warmth and safety, happiness and laughter in every room.

He got up and followed Jenna back into the house. Their backyard conversation, though, would stay with him for a long time.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1330 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

Across the table, Christian mimed hanging himself and Callen nearly choked on his coffee. Chloe swatted her husband's arm. "You men are useless! Go cut the grass or wallow in a tavern or fight a bear or whatever it is that men do!"

"Sorry, my love," Christian replied before throwing his arm over his wife's shoulders. "I forgot my bear fighting stick."

"Come on, you don't bare knuckle box with the bear?" Steven asked as he leaned back in his chair beside Callen. "Wimp."

"Well, now you're going to have to go punch a shark in the face to regain your manliness," Nell said as she ruffled her brother-in-law's hair affectionately. She reached past and set a fresh pot of green tea on the table, which Steven immediately went for.

"What is it? Pick on Chris day?" Christian demanded. "Come on, talking about wedding favours is enough to make any man want to hang himself."

"Speak for yourself," Steven said, leaning forward. "Oh my good gosh, look at those little silver heart-shaped picture frames! Those are so sweet! Did you two do engagement photos? You could use those!"

"We didn't do any," Nell replied. "And the frames are okay…"

"But! There is always a but!" Christian complained. "Nell, you're thinking about this too hard."

"I want the day to be perfect!" Nell shot back, her eyes narrowing in warning.

Having a pregnant and hormonal wife who was mirroring her sister's glare had him throwing his hands up. "Look, Nell. Everyone is going to be at the wedding because they love you and Greg and are there to celebrate your life together. No one is going to be looking at napkin rings or judging the caterers or giving a damn about centerpieces or party favours. Everyone just wants to be part of your day and wish you two a long and happy life together."

Nell softened and let out a sigh. "Thanks, Chris."

Chloe expectantly burst into tears. "That was so nice, Christian." Her head fell to his shoulder, and he held her close. Callen tucked his head a bit trying to hide the grin. Christian caught him though and shot him a mischievous grin. "Oh, laugh it up, Chuckles. You just wait until it's your turn and your woman goes completely stark raving mad."

Chloe sat back up an angry and defiant expression on her face. "I am not crazy!"

"You're a lunatic, but I love you," Christian replied.

Chloe glared before turning to her brother. "Pass the tea."

"Manners, my darling sister," Steven murmured as he passed the tea. "You're right, Chris. She's grouchy."

Chloe glared at her husband. "You called me grouchy?"

"He's a liar," Christian pointed at Steven.

"Maybe it was crabby," Steven mused with a wicked grin.

"You're just trying to get me on the shit list, aren't you?" Christian muttered.

"Boys," Alan warned. "How about we actually help Nell and Greg decide on these party favours before you give Nell a stroke or put Chloe into early labour?" With Alan's guiding hand, everyone returned once again to the task at hand. "Do you like these wine corks?" Alan asked his daughter. Nell gave a small shrug. Alan grinned. "It's okay, we'll find you what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," Nell whined as she took a seat on Callen's lap. She'd been walking around looking over people's shoulders at various magazines and tablets that people were searching on. She felt tired and overwhelmed. Her perfectionistic tendencies were running her into the ground.

Callen held his fiancée close while she rested her head on his shoulder. He enjoyed the feel of her, the closeness. He liked having her family around, the noise and teasing banter. They brought laughter and joy into their home, and he appreciated it.

"Ah! Look at these." Steven flipped his tablet around. "Bride and groom bottle holders." Nell raised one eyebrow, and Steven scoffed. "You're impossible, Nelly-Belly."

"She just has exceptional standards," Susan defended as she continued to flip through a magazine.

"Ha!" Christian turned the magazine he'd been flipping through and pointed. "Individual s'more kits. Great for hangovers- which we'll all have the next morning."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

"I am being serious! Who doesn't love s'mores? Everyone loves s'mores," Christian argued. "It's a scientific fact."

"I hate marshmallows," Steven interrupted.

"You're clearly an alien from outer space here on a mission to end the love of s'mores!" Christian accused while dramatically leaning forward and pointing at his brother-in-law. "You fiend! I'm on to you."

Steven tilted his head slightly, unable to keep from snickering. "Jesus. Are you drunk?" He turned to his sister and pointed his thumb in Christian's direction. "Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much," Chloe replied with a big grin on her face. "Oh, these personalized tote bags are cute and practical. People could use them all the time for shopping."

"These skeleton key bottle openers are classy and functional." Susan showed Nell the picture. Nell nodded but didn't say anything, so Susan shot her a reassuring smile and continued the search.

Nell nuzzled into Callen's neck. "Am I being too picky?" she whispered fearfully.

"You demand the best in every aspect of your life, and you get it. Don't settle," he whispered back. "I don't want you to have a single thing on this day that you wished you'd done differently."

His reassurance took a weight off her shoulders and she let out a sigh. "Thanks, G."

His hand ran over her hair, down her back and settled once more around her waist. His other hand continued to flip through one of the many magazines for ideas.

"Candy filled mugs?" Alan suggested.

"Who doesn't love candy?" Christian seconded.

"Who doesn't need an extra mug." Susan leaned forward to get a better look. "Oh, and look at how cute the designs are!"

Callen paused on a page and tapped it, getting Nell's attention. She turned and brought the magazine a little closer. A smile lit up her face. Everyone became silent. She stared down at the picture of a personalized bag of coffee beans with the words 'love is brewing' on it. There was a second option of filling the bag with tea leaves. "You're a coffee addict," she said with a laugh. "This is so you."

"Yeah, Miss Five-Cups-of-Tea-a-Day," Callen said with a roll of his bright blue eyes. "There are days when you give Hetty a run for her money. You know, I bet Hetty could find us some really good tea."

"I bet either you or Deeks could find the very best coffee," Nell mused. "He's just as bad as you are when it comes to that stuff."

They smiled at one another and the ever-impatient Chloe cut in, "So, is this it?"

Nell nodded. "Yeah, it is. You like it, right, G?"

"Yeah, of course."

Nell let out a laugh, grabbed her fiancé's face in both hands and kissed him square on the mouth. "I love you!"


	41. Evaluation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JET1967 for proofreading.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1340 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Angela met Nate outside of her building. She greeted him with a smile and looked past him at the nice sporty car he drove. "I hope that thing has an alarm."

"It does," Nate replied, hitting the button. The car made a clicking sound while the lights flashed. "I heard that Ryan's tires ended up stolen from here once."

Angela laughed. "Yeah, they did. Good times." She led him into the building, disabled the alarm and set it for 'stay' mode so it would only trigger if someone came in.

Nate made note of how security conscious she seemed. She took a quick look around the barren main floor before she led him to the staircase. "How long have you been living here?" Nate asked. The stairwell smelt faintly of lemon cleaner, and he recalled Renko once telling him how particular Angela was about keeping things clean.

"Um, two and a half years? Something like that, anyway." She turned on the landing and continued up the stairs.

"What's in here?" Nate asked, pointing his thumb at the door on the landing.

Angela froze three stairs above him. He could see the tense position of her shoulders through her tight grey long-sleeved shirt. "Storage."

"What do you keep stored?"

She straightened slightly before she turned around and descended the stairs. She pulled a key from her pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open. "See for yourself. I'll meet you upstairs."

Nate raised an eyebrow but kept his voice skillfully even. "You're not going to stay?"

"I know what's in there," she replied before turning her back to him and taking the stairs two at a time.

Nate waited until the upper door closed and then walked into the second floor room.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1353 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA**

"Do you think Kimi could bring burgers or something?" Faraday asked right before his stomach rumbled loudly. Sitting in a car that had progressively gotten warmer and more uncomfortable made Faraday rather irritable. Adding on that he was hungry made him miserable.

"No. We're undercover!" Cooper replied with authority. "We're running surveillance; we're not supposed to be noticed and certainly not having food delivered!"

"But I'm hungry." Faraday winced upon hearing the whining edge in his own voice.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Cooper shot back. "Get over it." He watched people moving around on the street. They wanted to ensure that Renko and Jessica were safe, especially since the group they were interested in wasn't above using family as leverage. Others had been threatened, kidnapped and even killed; no one wanted to take any chances.

Faraday cracked the window, hoping for a bit of a breeze since their car was baking in the mid-day sun. He felt a little sick from eating five bags of Skittles, which he had to admit hadn't been his brightest idea. He sat up a little straighter as he looked through the tinted windshield. "Suits," he said, pointing. "Little hot to be wearing them. They're looking at the Villa."

Cooper raised the camera and zoomed in where his partner pointed. He took a few pictures and cursed.

"What?" Faraday asked, shooting his partner a questioning look.

"They're feds," Cooper growled. "They're fucking feds."

"I know the suits are bad, but that's just discrimination," Faraday joked, but his heart wasn't in it.

"It isn't just the suits," Cooper replied as he sat back in his seat. "I worked a case with the one on the right. He's FBI, or was when I worked with him."

Faraday cursed under his breath. "Want me to go tell them to piss off?" He'd take any opportunity to get out of the car.

"No, you'll lose your temper."

Faraday feigned offended. "Will not."

"You do every time you have to deal with someone from the FBI."

"Well, they're condescending pricks."

Cooper rolled his dark brown eyes. "I'm going to call Hetty and see how she wants this handled. Maybe she can get them to back off. You call Renko and give him a heads up."

"Damage control. On it."

Cooper just hoped it would be enough to save their op before it got blown by another agency.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1355 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Nate walked into the apartment with two boxes under his arm. Angela sat at the kitchen island. Her gaze immediately went to him and then shifted to the boxes. He watched a flicker of rage on her face before she got her reaction under control. He silently put the boxes down and opened them. He put a hand in each and came out with a shoe from each box and he put them down on the counter. "Tell me about them," he said softly.

Despite how kind Nate sounded, she knew it wasn't a request, not really. If she wanted to be cleared mentally, she had to give Nate enough to work with. She needed to let him see enough to make him comfortable signing off on her 'return to duty' papers.

She reached out for the baby girl shoe. "I didn't know if I was going to have a boy or a girl. Griffin was the father." Her thoughts and feelings kept pushing to the forefront; she sorted through them and found what she felt comfortable saying and kept the rest back. She held up the little shoe and ran her thumb over it. "I just had this feeling that it was a girl. Could have been wrong but I didn't feel comfortable calling the baby 'it.'"

Nate watched her expressions from the other side of the island. After the initial anger, her face became soft and a little distant as she spoke about the child she'd lost. He had minimal knowledge of Angela- most came from side comments Renko or one of her other team members made, some came from what Hetty gave him that wasn't redacted or that she felt he needed to know, the rest was his own observations.

"You still have the crib," Nate stated softly. He didn't want to hurt her but his job required him to ask the tough questions. "Are you hoping for a child one day?"

"I-" Angela turned the shoe in her hand. "The crib was for the child I lost." She shook her head. "If do have a child, I don't think I could use that crib. It would just remind me."

"You want to be a mother?"

"Yes, but I'm unmarried and in my thirties. Not that plenty of women don't get married and have kids in their thirties, that's not what I'm saying. It's just with work; I mean, it's not like I'm even dating so," she shrugged. "I don't know if a family is in my cards."

"Now, you lost your child in the explosion that killed your team, right?" Nate asked. She nodded and put the shoe down. "You were injured in the explosion, right?"

She met his eyes and found nothing but compassion in his eyes. She felt grateful; she'd had enough pity in her time. "Yes." Angela stood and lifted her shirt just slightly and at the same spot pulled the waistband of her jeans down. "Most of the scar ended up covered in ink."

Nate studied the delicate rosary along with the word 'Faith' on her skin. "Angela, you know it's okay to let go of the pain and guilt. It doesn't mean you'll forget her." She grimaced, as if in physical pain. She looked down at the counter as she smoothed her shirt down. "Which religion do you follow?"

His question threw her for a bit of a loop but she took the fact that he was moving past the touchy topic of her lost child as a good sign. "I'm Catholic. I mean, I was, I guess." Angela sat back down. Nate shot her a curious look, and she knew she'd have to explain. "You could say I've had a crisis of faith. I've had a lot of questions, doubts, anger. A lot of anger." She took a deep breath and her hand reached to the St. Michael's necklace she wore. "Prayers and soul-searching mostly come up short. I don't think my chosen profession really helps. I see the worst of humanity every day."

"Why did you choose law enforcement?" Nate asked, while leaning back on the counter against the wall.

She noticed his casual move and sat a little straighter. "Shit, sorry, Nate. Where are my manners? Please, have a seat."

He grinned as she appeared genuinely flustered and her ears grew a little red just before her cheeks did. She showed sincere embarrassment for not catering to him earlier. It made him wonder for a moment about her earlier years. He'd work into that but figured the last few years would give him enough of a baseline for now, at least to clear her back for duty.

He walked around and took one of the stools while she stood. "Would you like something to drink? I've got water," she said before opening the fridge. "Coffee, tea, milk, orange juice, and red wine."

"Coffee would be great," he replied, figuring if she were bustling around the kitchen she might slip and give him more. The tactic came with the downside that he wouldn't be able to see her reaction. "Milk and sugar, too, please."

A clicking sound from behind him made Nate turn. A golden retriever pranced over. Angela laughed. "Her name is Sugar. She thinks you called her."

Nate grinned and ran his hand over the dog's head in greeting. He'd heard about the dog, mostly from Agent Faraday who'd been quite certain the dog would bite him while they tried to get Angela out of the apartment when she'd been shot. He scratched Sugar behind the ear and she leaned her head heavily into it, her tail thumping happily against the floor. Angela hadn't initially struck him as a person for a pet but the more he found out about her, the more the dog fit. She lived a solitary life, kept people at arm's length, but that was due to fear, not a personality trait or lifestyle choice. The dog offered unconditional love and affection. Nate understood that Angela needed that.

He turned to watch her measuring coffee grounds. "So, why law enforcement?"

"Same as everyone else who goes into it, I guess. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference."

That was the endgame but not what struck the match in her, Nate hypothesized. He sensed that pushing would make her shut down the topic completely so, for today's session, he decided to just let it go. Sugar pushed her nose against his hand to demand more petting, which he obliged. The dog sent him a look of pure adoration. He couldn't help but smile.

"She has that effect on people," Angela said as she stood on the other side of the island while the coffee started to brew.

"How long have you had her?"

"Got her before I moved here. One of those impulses, I guess," Angela informed him with a little shrug. "I was looking for a mean dog."

Nate raised an eyebrow. He was surprised by the fact that she volunteered more information. He leaned forward and listened. "A mean dog?"

"Yeah, vicious," Angela replied, dead serious. "Something that I could put outside that would scare anyone off. Something that would bark and warn me if anyone was around. I wanted a mean dog, one that would take a chunk out of anyone who came near my space." Her finger jabbed into the counter top as if it could drive her point home. "I can't say I was in the best place after my team died in the explosion, or I thought they did." Angela glanced back at the coffeemaker as though she couldn't face him as she kept talking. "I was scared. Thought I'd die next. I'd lost my child." Her voice broke and she shrugged. "Like I said, I wasn't in a good place."

"You made it through," Nate said softly.

"Yeah. I did." She snorted. "I'm stubborn like that."

He didn't particularly care for how she made light of the fact she survived but he knew survivor's guilt to be a powerful thing. He decided to move the topic back to safer ground but made a mental note to bring it up later. "Sugar doesn't look vicious at all."

Angela smiled and leaned across the counter to look at her dog. Sugar looked up at her, and the dog's tongue lolled out the side of her mouth. Angela returned her gaze to Nate. "I went into the shelter looking for whichever animal looked most aggressively pissed off about being caged. As I'm going through the rows of cages, I found her. She was lying in a little cage, completely emaciated. She looked up at me and damn near broke my heart. I crouched down and stuck my hand through the bars and just pet her. Her tail lifted and fell before her eyes closed."

He frowned and looked down at the dog, now healthy and happy, but from Angela's words he could clearly see the little cell with the sick and dying dog. He turned back to Angela, her grey eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"A worker came up behind me," Angela continued. "Said that they got her away from some terrible owners but unfortunately the shelter didn't have enough to nurse her back to health. Said something like 'she likely wouldn't make it a week anyway.'" Her voice took on an edge of pure rage. "She said it like Sugar's life didn't matter, like it wasn't worth the money to take a risk on!"

Upon hearing her owner's rage and pain, Sugar whined before abandoning Nate and rushing around the counter. The dog rubbed right up against Angela's legs and sat there. Angela calmed slightly as she ran her hand over Sugar's soft fur.

"So I paid for all the treatments. Came daily to see any progress. I still had every intention of getting a mean dog. This one would make a great family pet for the right people. I just…" Angela trailed off. She shrugged slightly. "I just couldn't leave her to die, you know?"

Nate grinned and nodded. "I understand."

"But she started to get better, and I could take her for walks or play fetch or teach her to sit or roll over, and she faithfully listened. She stuck close to me when I was there, whined when I left. When the shelter felt her health was good enough to put her up for adoption I just couldn't let go. Maybe I wouldn't get the security of a mean dog, but I traded up for the loyalty and love of this one."

That held the most weight of anything she'd ever said to him. It gave Nate the greatest insight into her priorities and needs. He smiled watching Angela fuss with her dog who clearly adored her. Angela quickly washed her hands before pulling down a mug and pouring coffee for Nate. "Milk or cream?"

"Cream since you have it," Nate replied.

Angela pulled the cream out and then grabbed a little bowl of sugar from the cabinet. She put them both on the island before bringing over the steaming mug.

"You're not going to join me?"

"I'm watching my caffeine intake," Angela lied. "Figure since I'm off work I can get it to an all-time low."

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1402 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA**

"Renko's pissed," Faraday informed his partner as he got off the phone. "Says if they blow his op, he's going to personally call the director of the FBI."

Cooper rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Hetty's calling the director now. She wants us to stay put. Doesn't want us blowing surveillance on top of everything else."

The two men sat fuming in the car, waiting for Hetty to call back. Faraday's cell went off and he quickly answered it without bothering to check the caller ID. "Faraday."

Cooper watched his friend immediately hang up and put the phone away. "Who was that?"

"Wrong number."

Cooper stared at his partner, but any questions died when his own cell went off, he quickly fished it out. He hit talk and then put the call from Hetty on speaker. "Hey."

_"The FBI is going to approach,"_ Hetty told them. _"I've already informed Mr. Renko. We're hoping that a visit from the FBI will entice these men to move quickly if they are watching."_

"There are a dozen reasons why this might not work," Faraday argued.

_"The alternative is pulling everyone out,"_ Hetty replied. _"Mr. Renko wants to keep the case on track if at all possible."_

Cooper watched as the men in suits started to cross the street. "Well, looks like it's in play. No more time for talking about it."

Hetty imparted them with well wishes before disconnecting. Cooper and Faraday shared a look of mutual disbelief before they turned their attention back to the Villa.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1406 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

"Do you mind if I take a look around?" Nate asked.

"Knock yourself out," Angela replied.

Nate couldn't tell from her straight-faced expression and flat delivery if she'd just given him permission or if it were her genuine wish. He stood anyway and started to walk around the apartment. The floor still needed to be finished in the living area, piles of boxed wood planks sat in the corner of the room. The windows overlooked a parking lot and a couple of tall buildings. A yoga mat remained rolled out in the far corner along with a little table that held a couple of candles and an incense burner. It seemed a good choice for Angela to have a form of exercise that had calming elements besides the physical benefits.

Nate walked past the tacked up blanket that separated the kitchen and living space that was still being renovated from the finished areas. To the left he found the bathroom, immaculately clean, pristine white. He couldn't help but open the medicine cabinet. As expected she'd only taken about half of her pain pills. Other prescriptions she took right to the end apparently as they were no longer there. Everything inside had its place, neat and tidy.

He went to the room at the end of the hall next. The scent of flowers bombarded him when he stepped in. He stared in shock, feeling as though he'd been transported some place wildly different. The room was more of a greenhouse than a bedroom. A window remained open a crack, allowing a breeze in. There were little shrubs, thorny flowers that crawled up the walls. A vase of fresh cut flowers sat on the nightstand next to an alarm clock. A dog bed lay in the corner under the protection of a small flowering tree. He felt wonder and a sense of peace. She'd made an oasis for herself. As much as Nate enjoyed exploring it he backed out of the room and shut the door.

He went to the last room, across from the bathroom, and opened the door. Earth tones, bed and dresser. A guest room. A dirty sock peeked out from under the bed. He pulled open the middle drawer and found a row of shirts, shirts he recognized.

"Mike stays on occasion."

Nate jumped, whirled around, and put his hand over his heart. "You startled me."

Angela smirked. "Sorry."

He didn't think she looked too apologetic. "Why?"

She tilted her head. "For scaring you."

"No, why does Renko stay?" Nate asked. He worried over the partners. Partners getting involved could end up reassigned if higher-ups knew.

"Convenience?" Angela replied with a shrug. "My place is closer than his. It's nicer, too. I even occasionally cook." Angela leaned against the door frame. "I guess after his place was set on fire and then all that crap when I got shot we just got used to being around one another. I find it comforting to have someone else around and to know my partner is safe."

She sounded earnest but Nate felt there remained something under the surface. The look on Angela's face told him she'd just about run out of patience with his questions. He had to get what he needed. He motioned for her to return to the kitchen and he followed her. "Hetty informed me that when you joined the Alpha-Echo unit you gave up everything in your old life."

"Yes."

"Who do you miss most?"

Angela shot Nate a dirty look. "I gave up everything. I don't dwell on the things I miss."

He could tell that his question hurt her. "I think you need to let someone in from your old life. Get reacquainted."

"I gave it up." Angela's words came from between clenched teeth. "What makes you think I want any of it back?" She walked around the island and opened a drawer. She grabbed and then slammed down the completed Rubik's cube. "Once my mind is set to something, I will not be stopped. I made the decision to let go of everything in my life. Leave it buried, Nate."

"One more thing," Nate said. "There are two gunmen, both of them are using a human shield, one of which is a civilian, the other is your partner." Angela glared but Nate didn't flinch or look away. "Who do you take out?"

"Neither," Angela growled, her eyes like steel. "Too dangerous without an open shot. Too much of risk to life. I negotiate like I was trained to. The fact that it's my partner changes nothing and will not make me so impulsive that I risk his, or the civilian's life. I know my job and my role, and I'm good at both."

Nate smiled and nodded. "I know." He finished off his coffee and stood. "Thanks for the drink and the chat. You passed, by the way." She didn't relax; he'd gotten her fuming. "Oh, almost forgot." Nate pulled an envelope from his inside suit pocket and put it down on the counter. "Hetty asked me to deliver this to you. I have no idea what it is, so I'll leave you to it." He had just about walked out when he paused and turned back. "Angela?"

She turned slowly, anger still simmering in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for your honesty. I'm always around if you ever need to talk."

She huffed out a breath, still not over her ire. "Yeah. I know." She huffed again. "I have to disable the alarm. Might as well ensure your car still has tires while I'm at it."

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1410 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA**

"That was impressive," Jessica complimented once the door was shut and locked. "I think the entire neighbourhood heard you."

"Well, Hetty said to put on a show," Renko replied as he walked past her. "If whoever is out there thinks the FBI is pressuring us for wit-pro we might just get lucky and get bumped up the 'call and threaten' list."

"That really says something about the state of our lives, doesn't it?"

Renko shrugged as he continued down the hall. "Beats waiting a month for something to happen. I've never been very good at the waiting part."

"I enjoy a good build up," Jessica replied as they entered the kitchen.

Renko paused to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows along the back wall. The gardens were impressive. He couldn't help but think that Angela would really enjoy them. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. "Do you want one?" he asked Jessica.

"No thanks, I'm good."

He shut the fridge and uncapped his drink. Screaming at feds was thirsty business that he might have taken a little too much joy out of. "So, now we wait," he said, leaning against the counter, his gaze once again shifting to the backyard.

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 9: 1419 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Luckily, Nate's car still had tires, so Angela said a quick goodbye and retreated back into her home. She found her hands shaking as she activated the 'stay' mode of her alarm. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, held it till the count of four and then slowly let it out. Nate's questions had really gotten under her skin. She walked up the stairs and stopped on the landing. The door to the second floor remained open and she stepped inside. She ran her hand over the thin layer of dust on the crib box. Nate had given her plenty to think about. She shut the door and walked up the rest of the stairs.

Sugar immediately pressed up against her and then ran to her water dish and pushed it with her nose before barking.

"Okay, okay," Angela said, smiling. "I got it." It wasn't until she started to wash Sugar's dish that she realized how quickly she'd bounced back from everything she'd talked over with Nate. Usually talking about her lost child would put her in a funk for the day. She hadn't given herself time to grieve properly when it first happened, not with the deaths of her teammates, with the fear and the hiding and the constant moving. She realized she had finally begun to settle into this new life. She'd made friends, despite trying to keep everyone at arm's length. She had a team she could rely on, a nice little place to call home and even a pet.

She dried the outside of the dish before filling it with filtered water. She bent down to put the bowl on the little plastic mat. Sugar licked her face. "Hey now!" She let go of the dish and stood back up.

Her team had done a lot to heal her; Renko had done a lot to heal her. The place felt oddly empty without his presence. She walked back to the counter where the shoes, completed Rubik's cube, dirty mug, and envelope still sat. She grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. Inside, in Hetty's dignified script, was written a name, a time, and an address. All breath evacuated her lungs and her head spun. She ran her hand over her face as she got her breath back. She stared at the lines of elegant calligraphy. Apparently Nate wasn't the only one who thought she needed to talk to someone from her old life.


	42. Not The Only One

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 1020 HRS: CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON**

Matt walked down the hallway sandwiched between two guards. Due to his LAPD status he had been kept in solitary confinement for his own safety. Days of being caged up alone were maddening. At this point, he'd happily risk getting shoved into 'gen-pop' just to break up the silence and mind-numbing isolation. The only person who visited regularly was Renko, who came every Friday.

Although there were multiple tables in the visitors' room, only one person sat inside when Matt walked in. He stood in a stunned silence while the guard removed his handcuffs. "Half hour," the surly guard barked, taking up the space by the door.

Matt briefly considered turning around and demanding to be taken back to his cell. His feet, however, had other plans that took him over to his visitor. He sat down heavily. His eyes stared at the table until his sight became unfocused and the different shades of the wood grain blurred. He felt deep shame in having her see him like this. Never had he felt so powerless in his own life.

"Matthew."

Her voice alone made his hands shake. He pinned them between his knees. Once again he thought about standing up and making a scene until the guard returned him to his cell. His self-respect had taken a beating, but he had pride he wanted to salvage.

"Matt, please look at me."

Her soft voice pleaded with him. He shook his head, unable to look at her, terrified to see the condemnation in her eyes. Her sigh sounded tired and a little sad. He was surprised not to find anger or agitation there.

"Renko is undercover. He's not sure how long he will be," she confided in him.

Concern for his best friend had him finally responding. "His partner is still out on leave."

"Yes," she confirmed. "He's with a temp."

Matt's head felt heavy, but he raised it. "He hates temps." He caught sight of a small smile before he resolutely looked at a spot on the wall over her shoulder.

"It's the job. We all get put into situations we're not ready for." A surprising blend of anger and bitterness coated her voice. It was enough to shock him into really looking at her for the first time since he'd walked in.

Ava Vogel looked much the same as she always did. Her blonde hair was cropped tightly to her head. She wore plain clothes instead of the uniform he was used to seeing her in- a pretty light blue sweater that really highlighted her bright baby blues, which he stared into. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

She tilted her head. "We're having this conversation here."

He frowned. "I'm sorry." He bowed his head once again.

"I don't blame you. I understand. It was wrong but understandable." She felt desperate to make him understand, especially since she felt she would only have this one chance and, if she messed it up, he would be lost to her.

"You should go."

"No." Ava fumed. "Matt, please listen."

"You listen." His temper snapped free but he didn't have to raise his voice to get his ire across. "This is not a place you should be-"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped right back, her fist stopping just before it would have hit the table. She threw a worried glance at the guard but found him staring at the wall, disinterested in their conversation.

"It means that you should be…" He paused for a moment and stared at her. "You should be out on patrol. You work Fridays."

She found his blue eyes staring at her; she shifted in her seat. She shrugged. "I got moved."

"Moved?"

She huffed out a breath. "I'm not talking about this."

"Ava, what happened?" He stared at her worriedly. He couldn't currently categorize their relationship. Mostly he teased the heck out of her and she put up with him. Then somewhere along the way he started to watch out for her when he could and she occasionally brought him coffee. They enjoyed each other's company but knew virtually nothing about the other.

"I…uh... I'm working in cyber crimes now."

He raised an eyebrow. "You can barely manage your e-mail." It might have been a slight exaggeration but Matt shook his head. "Tech isn't your strong suit."

Her eyes narrowed. "I can manage the program for the work I do."

Her avoidance of straight-talk put the hair on the back of his neck on end. He leaned forward. "Sketch, what the hell are you into?"

"I told you. I'm wor-"

"Cut the bullshit," he growled. All the time locked up had made him irritable. "What's the job?"

"It's a promotion. I'm working underco-"

"Are you kidding me?" He ran his hands over his face. His eyes ran over her. She looked uncomfortable and a little ashamed. She didn't look her years; he knew she could pull off a much younger look if she dressed the part. "You're playing 'hook-line-and-sinker', aren't you?"

She understood the nickname that he gave the division. She talked to men online as a fourteen-year-old girl, made a meet and took them down. Not the division she wanted to be in, not one that let her sleep well at nights, but her friendship with Matt Bernhart had made IA crack down hard on her. Bates moved her to a new division in a different precinct to give her some breathing space. That and he said she'd 'earned the promotion.'

"Aren't you?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you just tell them you wanted to stay with traffic? You're a good traffic cop."

She rolled her eyes. "Congrats on the promotion, Ava. You deserve it." She mocked his lower voice to the best of her ability while she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Thanks, Matt. Your support means so much to me."

He glared back. "A little less sarcasm, okay? I'm not having a good month."

"Neither am I." Her words came from between clenched teeth. She really wanted to reach out and shake him, or slap him, anything to make him snap back. "You think this is any easier for the people on the outside who love you?"

He didn't have many on the outside. He got along with his co-workers, or had until this incident. Not one of them had come to visit or write. Bates had shown up out of duty. He'd had a couple visits with his lawyer, and then Renko. He stared at her for a moment and saw the glassiness in her eyes. He smiled, the first genuine smile since he had been locked up. "People who love me, huh? You tellin' me something there, Sweetheart?"

She flushed a bold red. "That isn't what I mean."

"And what do you mean?" he teased.

"I mean like… it's tough for Renko."

"That's it?"

"Huh?'

"That's all I got for loved ones on the outside?" The perspective hurt but he managed to keep the teasing smile on his face.

She frowned and opened her mouth but ended up cut off by the guard who walked over and put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "Time's up."

She watched as Matt deflated and a hard look came over his eyes. He stood; Ava did the same. The guard refitted Matt's wrists with the handcuffs. Ava's eyes burned with tears as she fought to keep her composure as he was led away. "Matt!" she shouted before he'd gotten halfway across the room.

Out of surprise both Matt and the guard gave a half turn. "Mike isn't the only one," she blurted and could feel the heat of her cheeks burning.

Matt flashed her a smirk and winked. "I know."

She stood there as the door shut behind Matt and the guard. Her knees shook. She dropped heavily down into her seat. "Cocky bastard," she muttered but after seeing him she felt better than she had in weeks.


	43. Art of Avoidance

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 1302 HRS: MOONLIT GARDEN RETIREMENT HOME

Angela stared at the happy sign that had orchids instead of 'O's. The big brick building looked well kept and on the drive by she had caught a glimpse of a well-manicured garden in the back. There were benches out front, and an elderly man sat there reading the paper. She looked at the envelope Hetty had sent to her through Nate; it taunted her on the passenger seat. "I don't have to do this," she muttered. "This isn't a requirement. I passed the psych evaluation." Despite this argument, curiosity teamed up with that part of her that kept taunting 'coward, coward' until she pushed open the door and got out.

Inside the retirement home she found a pretty young woman in sky blue scrubs behind the reception desk. "Hello," she greeted cheerily. "Are you here to visit?"

"Actually, I'm a friend of Sylvia's," Angela said. There had been instructions with the note as to what she should do and say once she got there. It felt like some kind of test and she didn't want to disappoint.

"So you must be our new volunteer, Lori. I'm Nora. I'll show you around and introduce you to Mr. McCormick." Nora flashed a dazzling smile. "Sylvia mentioned your love of gardens. I'm sure he will enjoy having someone to share his hobby with."

The red-haired agent put on a friendly smile despite how the surname twisted her up inside. "I'm afraid Sylvia didn't tell me much about this place," Angela mentioned as a way to keep Nora talking while she trailed behind a step.

"It's a retirement home," Nora replied as she led them down a long hallway. "We have fifteen full-time staff, twenty-seven part-time and about ten volunteers. Mostly, we just ask our volunteers to make time for game night or to keep someone company. Many don't have anyone around to come and visit or just don't have family to make time. Of course, volunteers such as yourself make your own schedule."

Angela nodded and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her anxiety grew as Nora led them out through sliding glass doors and into a magnificent garden. She stopped and stared at the beautiful flowers, trying to get her heart rate back under control through sheer willpower. She focused on the bold yellow of the Suntan roses and controlled her breathing in and out.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Gorgeous," Angela admitted. Her hand caressed one of the roses she'd been staring at. "These sprays are such a nice colour." She took a deep breath and left the flowers behind as she followed Nora through the maze of flowers.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 1315 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA

Jessica came back into the villa after her run and made a beeline directly for the shower. She found Renko in the bedroom, laying down and staring at the ceiling. She leaned against the doorway and smiled at him. "Contemplating the meaning of life?"

"I'm so bored," he groaned. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave her a look over. He had worried about her going out without him but Faraday had been with her. "Did you see anyone?"

"A couple of joggers, both female, and neither paid me any mind. Noah alternated between running past me and then slowing down enough to let me pass him." Jessica blew out a breath and put her hands on her hips. "He's in really, really good shape."

"You sound surprised," Renko teased from a lack of anything better to do.

"Well, Ryan wears alpha-male and has muscles on muscles so I expect him to be in tip-top condition. Noah, on the other hand, is just so…" She sighed, unable to find the right word. "Subtle in his fitness."

Renko barked out a laugh. "You just haven't been around long enough. When Noah is better at something, he lets you know it and rubs it in your face. He can outrun Ryan."

"Really?"

"Ry isn't a long distance runner," he informed her. "Noah just doesn't brag because when Ange is in full health she can out run him in speed and distance."

"And where do you fall in all this, Partner?" she asked as she wiped a bead of sweat off the back of her neck.

He smiled. "Shower's free. What do you feel like for lunch?" He abandoned the bed and headed for the door. "I kind of want nachos."

Her stomach rumbled and she grinned. "Nachos sound great."

"I'll get them started," he told her.

It wasn't until he had shut the double doors and she stood alone in the room that she realized he'd skipped out on yet another question about himself.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 1316 HRS: MOONLIT GARDEN RETIREMENT HOME

"Ah, Mr. McCormick!" Nora exclaimed with her hands on her hips, showing she did actually have a figure under her boxy scrubs. "I was starting to think you weren't out here."

"Where else would I be?" the old man replied with a smile. His green eyes turned to Angela. She froze like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Hello."

Angela fought to create a coherent sentence but was saved by Nora. "This here is Lori. She's a gardener. I figured the two of you would have plenty to talk about."

"A gardener? Is that right?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at Angela, and she felt like he could see through the lies. After what seemed like an eternity, his features softened and the old man patted his hand on the empty portion of the bench beside him. "I start talking about roses and everyone tunes me out. It'll be a nice change of pace to have someone who knows what I'm talking about."

Nora feigned insult and put her hand over her heart. "Why, Mr. McCormick, I've never once tuned you out."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course not, Nora."

"Although, I do admit that I never know what you're talking about." He laughed and she patted his shoulder. "Do you need anything before I continue rounds?"

He gave her a warm smile. "I'm just fine but thank you."

"Have a nice afternoon, you two!" Nora said as she headed back down the pathway.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Lori," he said, extending his hand.

She put her hand in his and forced a smile. "You, too, Mr. McCormick."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Please, just call me Patrick." She nodded and fought to find something intelligent to say. Luckily, she found herself saved by Patrick's gift for gab. "Well, it's a beautiful afternoon." Once again he patted the bench next to him, inviting her to sit down. "What brings you here?"

Angela took a seat and rested her elbows on her knees. Her eyes trailed over the purple asters on the other side of the path. What did bring her to this place? To this man? Her grey eyes turned on him. "Curiosity. Do you know Sylvia?"

"Ah, yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting her," he replied with a fond smile on his face. "Wonderful woman, very intelligent. I take it you know her then?"

"She's a friend," Angela replied vaguely. "She suggested I volunteer here."

"I get the impression that she volunteers in many places." His sharp green eyes locked on her and for a second she swore she found recognition in them. "Why would she suggest you come here?"

She took a deep breath, trying to combat the feeling of her lungs caving in. "The gardens," she replied. She needed him to stop looking at her, to stop asking her questions. "Do you help keep them?"

"I do," he replied. "They have a few landscapers but I get my word in."

"Were you a landscaper before retirement?" she asked, despite already knowing the answer. The self-preserving part of her regretted coming here, for she knew it would open old wounds. Yet, she felt so at peace and, on some level, had to admit that Nate and Hetty were right. She needed this.

"No, no," he replied with a merry laugh. "I was a priest. I used to run a church in San Francisco."

Of course, she knew that. She remembered the feel of the worn wooden pews, the stunning stained glass windows, the noise that came with the congregation, and a blissful state of peace that came with it all. Those memories were overshadowed immediately by the lit candles, the confessional and the broken rosary on the night that her life came to a crashing halt. She tried her best to hide the conflicting emotions warring inside of her. "What brought you to Los Angeles?"

"My daughter lives here," Patrick replied. "She had a baby girl and I knew I wanted to be a part of that child's life."

"She must love visiting here," she mused as a butterfly fluttered by.

"She did."

Angela grimaced. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a warm smile. "Didn't anyone ever tell you 'the Lord works in mysterious ways'?"

You did. "I've heard it once or twice," she admitted.

"Just ask, Lori."

Her head tilted in confusion. "Ask what?"

"How I can defend a God who took my grandchild after only four short years, one who left a child ill since her first birthday straight to her death."

Angela's hands shook on her knees, and she pointedly looked at her watch. "Well, would you look at the time? I'm so sorry but I really must be going."

He smiled. Knowingly, Angela thought. He took her hand in his and smiled. "Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes we just can't get through the rage, sadness, hate, fear or guilt to see it."

She felt the tears welling in her eyes and managed a weak smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I hope to see you again soon, Lori."

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 2001 HRS: WILLOWCREST VILLA

"You know, boredom is the biggest threat in an undercover op," Renko stated as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Is that so?" Jessica asked as she cleaned dishes.

"Boredom makes you sluggish, unprepared, and paranoid," he replied, counting off the reasons on his fingers. After his show with the FBI, the two of them had kept a low profile and sat around waiting for the phone to ring. Boredom drove Renko up the wall, and he felt confined despite the incredible square footage of the villa.

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Wouldn't paranoia make you better prepared?"

He shook his head slightly. "No, because boredom breeds laziness. So, while you're paranoid about the threat, you remain totally unprepared for when it happens." He opened the nearest cabinet and looked at the incredible china. He had half a mind to suggest playing Frisbee. The Hetty-fearing half tossed the idea out.

She stared for a moment before flicking water at him. "You're so full of it!"

He shut the cupboard and wiped the water droplets off his face. "Am not."

"Are so, and-" she said quickly to cut off further childish arguing, "you are incredibly secretive."

He smiled. "Am not."

"Are so!" she replied, absolutely exasperated. She pulled the plug on the sink and rinsed the suds off of her hands. "Ever since I noticed your avoidance I started to purposely ask questions and you know what I found out?"

"That I am fascinating," he antagonized.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing beyond how you take your coffee, the fact that you like your steak medium-well and, if the way you poked around and inspected is any indication, you're a bit weirded out about the consistency of mashed potatoes."

"Am not." He laughed at her 'insight.' At first, he hadn't intentionally avoided her questions but to him avoidance and lies came as natural as breathing. He could blame the job, but again, that would be lying. Once he realized her questions were formed out of more than curiosity, he skirted them or made up outlandish lies to make her laugh.

She couldn't help but smile while she grabbed a tea towel to dry her hands. "I'm not trying to pry, Mike, but changing the subject when I ask what TV station is your favourite only gives me ammo."

He raised an eyebrow. "How does that give you ammo?"

"Now I think you're a pervert whose favourite channel is one of those pay-per-view porn channels." She quickly swirled the towel around and whipped him in the leg with it despite his meek attempt to escape.

He laughed. "Maybe it is. Not something you go and tell a girl. Hey, do you feel like dessert? We've been camped out in this place all day. Hetty can't really expect us to sit by the phone forever, now can she? We need to make appearances and look like a normal couple."

"Heck yes! I'll want to change first but I'd kill for some- hey!" Her hands were planted on her hips and her eyes narrowed at him. "See! There you go again, changing the subject."

"Maybe I just have a short attention span," he suggested as he pulled out his phone. "I'm sure Kimi put an app on here to find good food in the area. Apparently she hates it when it's my turn to pick." The Villa's landline which was already rigged for tracking, rang. The noise cut through the good-natured banter and put them back in business mode. Renko's cellphone dinged and he quickly checked the text message from Kimi, which simply said 'go.' "Kimi's ready for the trace," he told her. "It's show time!"


	44. Comfortable

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 10: 2337 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Due to the late hour Renko had thought about going to his apartment but he'd ended up at Angela's instead. He had expected to find her in bed but instead she sat cross-legged on the floor staring at the glistening hardwood floors that now lined the sunken living room. She had a bottle of red wine to her right and a glass in hand. His usually immaculate partner sat in torn, sawdust-covered, paint-splattered jeans and a white tank that uncharacteristically showed her tattoos. Her vibrant red locks were tied in a messy bun and a strand fell down her neck when she turned to look at him. "Hey," she said, raising the bottle in greeting. "Grab yourself a glass; 1989 was a good year."

He grinned as she returned to admiring her work; he relaxed the hand behind his back. Most people wouldn't be pleased to have someone come in at nearly midnight. He didn't consider himself a guest in her home anymore; and yet they weren't really roommates either. They had a work relationship and never quite managed to fit themselves into the categories of 'just friends,' 'coworkers,' or 'lovers.' He grabbed himself a glass and ambled over. "You're a machine," he commented with a grin. "When did you do this?"

"This afternoon," she replied. "After my evaluation with Nate and this thing Hetty got me to do, I just had a lot on my mind." She glanced up at him as he stood beside her and extended a bouquet of flowers. Her breath caught in her throat. The day's events and a couple glasses of wine made her emotional enough but the flowers brought tears to her eyes.

"For you," he said, wiggling the bouquet until she relieved him of it. He sat down beside her and smiled as she buried her nose in the blooms.

She inhaled the delicate fragrance of the freshly cut roses and let out a sigh. Her grey eyes locked on to him, and she took her first good look since he had returned. No bruises, lacerations, burns, gunshots, or broken bones as far as she could see and that brought her relief. She couldn't help but think he looked rather cute as he fussed with the sleeve of his shirt and avoided eye contact. "They're beautiful," she commented. She laid her hand over his and stopped his fussing. His eyes looked at their hands together before they turned to her. "Thank you, Michael."

He brushed his thumb over one of her fingertips. "You're welcome."

She took her hand back to better support the bouquet that she took another sniff of. "So, where did you get flowers this time of night?"

"Convenience store." The quick lie escaped him before he thought about it. Lying came as second nature.

She shot him a bland look. "Bullshit."

He flashed her a teasing grin. "I'm telling Kimi."

"Rat," she muttered. "Come on, where did you get them, Mike?"

"The villa where we were doing the op had a great garden," he replied with feigned casualness as he tried to ignore his racing heart. "You would have loved it."

"So you cut these yourself?" He shrugged and she leaned over to kiss his cheek. "That is incredibly sweet." She shifted her bottom closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

His arm went around her naturally, as if he'd done it a million times before. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked while his thumb brushed along her bare skin. "You're getting mushy."

She filled his glass and held it out to him. "I've only had two-"

"And a half." He pointed to her glass.

"And a half," she conceded. "Now tell me about the op."

He filled her in on pertinent details with no filler. "And then the phone rang."

She nodded to show she was still following along. "And Kimi was ready to trace?"

"Yeah. And she got a lock and the strike-team hit." He chugged back the rest of his glass of wine.

"Savour, Renko!" Angela scolded and swatted his knee for good measure. "Or I won't share anymore."

He shot her a look of disbelief. "You can't finish the bottle on your own!"

"You bet your sweet ass I can."

He laughed. "Okay, let me rephrase that, you shouldn't."

"I can regret it in the morning. I can't let it go to waste," she told him as if it were the most logical thing in the world and that he'd be smart not argue. "Now, tell me the rest of the story."

"No, that's it. Strike-team hit, rounded them up and now some higher-up with a beef is going to grill them."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips on the edge of the glass. "That's it?" She took a dainty sip as she stared at him skeptically.

"Yeah, that's it." And it annoyed the hell out of him, too. He and his team did the legwork and someone else would see it through. Now that he sat with Angela he found he didn't care so much anymore.

She nuzzled against his shoulder. "No shoot-out? No interrogation?"

"Nope and nope." He replied as his fingertips grazed down her side to rest on her hip. "I didn't even get to yell at the FBI."

She pursed her lips. "Lame."

"I know! Noah was pissed. Can't blame him. He and Ry were cooped up in that car ninety percent of the time."

Angela shook her head and drank the last of the wine. "Well, everyone came home safe and sound and today's villains are locked up or transferred somewhere or are getting interrogated or whatever. Where was I going with this?"

"All's well that ends well?"

"Yeah, I guess," she replied and yawned.

He looked at her and found her eyes fighting to stay open. "Tired?"

"Kinda," she replied as her eyes fluttered shut.

He grinned. "Just kinda?"

She nuzzled into his shoulder. "Little bit," she whispered in return.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"Don't wanna."

He couldn't help but chuckle at his usually serious partner replying with near childlike innocence. He felt her soft breath along his collarbone and groaned. "You aren't going to get up, are you?" No reply. He turned to the bottle of wine. "Was that the first?" No reply. "Sleepy little drunk," he muttered and decided she had to be well and truly asleep if she didn't deny it.

He took the flowers from her hands and set them to the side. With his arm still around her back, he hooked the other under her knees and picked her up. Jostled into a brief moment of wakefulness, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head back down against his shoulder. He walked across the room, turned to step backwards through the tacked up blanket that kept the renovation dust from the bedrooms and nudged her door open with his foot. "Here you go," he said softly as he laid her down. She immediately rolled onto her side and curled her legs up. "Sleep well," he whispered before he kissed her temple and left the room.


	45. Twisty Straw

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 0855 HRS: LAX**

Kensi watched as people held up name signs and 'Welcome Home' banners. She sat quietly, away from the crowd, with a newspaper she didn't bother reading. Her eyes were on the doors where people walked out in droves. She watched lovers embrace and families reunite.

"Janet!" a man called from the crowd, in his arms a bouquet of roses. Kensi's eyes trailed to a woman in the emerging multitude of people with her rolling luggage case. She smiled at the man and rushed to him. "Welcome home." She smiled up at him and, instead of speaking, dropped the handle on her luggage and kissed him with such passion that Kensi felt like she was intruding on a private moment and looked away.

She checked her watch and chewed on her bottom lip. Deeks's plane should have already landed. Her foot tapped out an impatient rhythm. Maybe he had yet to find his luggage, or maybe he helped some little old lady- oh, it would be so like him to start a conversation with someone while waiting and completely lose track of time.

Her eyes went back to the doors just in time to see his mop of blonde hair. Her feet acted as though they had a mind of their own; her eyes fixated on him as she pushed people aside in her hurry.

His eyes found her and a smile lit up his face. "Hoo! Fern, baby girl!" he teased excitedly. "It's been a while!"

She burst out with a laugh and launched herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. The kiss she bestowed upon him came with a PG-13 rating but the wicked look in her eye came with a promise of an R ending. "I'm glad you're home."

"I'm happy to be back," he replied, looking lovingly into her eyes. Oh, how he had missed her when he'd been gone! "Seriously. Just stay put. I have to think about calculus for a minute here."

She laughed, returning to kissing him.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 1134 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"I'm so glad you came," Chloe said as she poured Angela a cup of iced tea and Angela looked at photographs pinned to the fridge with magnets. Eric and Nell made funny faces in one; the other was a group shot of Callen with his team in a bar- family, Angela thought. "Nell is at her wits' end about dress shopping. I know that you've helped her in so many other areas of wedding planning, I was hoping maybe you can help here, too."

"I can't promise anything," Angela replied, reaching out for the glass. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Here, sit," Chloe insisted, leading the way to the small kitchen table with her own glass of iced tea. "We've looked just about everywhere," she complained as she sat down. It felt good to be off her feet; she let out a pleased sigh. "We aren't staying in Los Angeles too much longer. I want to be home and resting for my last month." She happily ran her hand over her large stomach and grinned when she felt her unborn child kick. "I really want to be here for Nell. I want to help my big sister find her dress."

"Nell is very lucky to have such a wonderful little sister," Angela complimented with an easy smile.

Chloe felt her cheeks warm and took a sip of her iced tea. The front door opened and with it came a rush of noise. "Back from grocery shopping, I see," Chloe said with a grin as her family started to flood into the kitchen. "I had begun to think you lot had purchased the entire store!"

"It just took us so long since we had to read all the nutritional labels," Christian replied as he came in with bags of groceries and set them on the counter. His wife came over immediately to inspect the purchase. "Since Mrs. Mother-to-Be is such a junk-food junkie."

"I am not," she replied indignantly. He simply raised an eyebrow. She sighed. "Okay, maybe just a little."

He shot her a smug smile and kissed her temple before turning to Angela. "You brave soul, coming into this madness."

"You're the brave one for marrying into it," Angela retorted.

Christian laughed and nodded. "You have no idea!"

"Oh hush-up, you love us," Steven cut in and smacked his brother-in-law's butt on the way by.

"You see that?" Christian asked Angela. "Doesn't even phase me anymore."

"Steve-en!" Chloe ground out with her hands on her hips. "Stop flirting with my husband."

"I date one of your boyfriends, and I never hear the end of it!" Steven laughed while putting groceries away.

Angela enjoyed the noise, the chaos and the dynamics of the family. She longed for it- the madness, the easy smiles, the quick laughs and the affection. She turned and waved at Nell. "Chloe invited me," she said. "I hear you're having dress troubles."

Nell's ears turned pink. "Maybe a little. I didn't want to be a burden to you and ask for more help, even though you've been able to find every elusive answer for me."

Angela grinned and patted the pile of bridal magazines on the table. "You show me the things that you like and I'll see what I can do."

Nell smiled shyly. "Thank you."

Angela averted her eyes and shrugged. "What are friends for?"

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 1232 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

The heat made Faraday glad that he'd left his suit jacket on the back of his chair. He unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled up the sleeves on his neatly ironed shirt. The cloudless sky annoyed him; he wished for rain to break the heat. He turned his attention to the on-site garage, all four bay doors open. He felt sorry for the mechanics who would be roasting inside, one mechanic in particular.

When he strolled into the garage, the interior heat hit him like a wave. His throat felt dry and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. The sooner he got into his air-conditioned truck, the better. His eyes shifted to Sierra's usual workspace but a car up on the hydraulic lift in bay one cut off his view. He heard her talking to someone so he followed the voices.

"So, that's it," he heard Sierra say. "Grand tour. You can start working on that car in bay one."

The new mechanic smiled. "Puttin' me to work that quick, huh?" Faraday paused and sized up the new guy. Six-two, built lean and mean, hard angular face, goatee, chestnut coloured hair and wearing new mechanic overalls.

The teasing tone was met with Sierra's icy glare. "Bay one, Kevin," she ordered. "Deal with it."

Kevin leaned in just slightly. "I like a woman who can speak with authority." Faraday felt like punching his lights out but knew if she'd be working with him then Faraday needed to let her stand on her own two feet. His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists despite his attempts to remain calm.

"And I like a man who knows his bounds," she growled. Her hands dropped from her hips and she took a step back to regain some personal space. Faraday fought the urge to walk right in; he needed to assure himself that this Kevin guy knew when to back the hell down.

Kevin put his hands up. "You're the boss." He turned away from her and nodded in greeting toward Faraday only to stop and openly stare at him. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Sweat collected at the back of Faraday's neck and it had nothing to do with the heat. "No," he replied briskly before walking past the new mechanic and right up to Sierra. "I don't like him."

"Well, Hetty hired him, so take up your feelings with her," Sierra replied sarcastically, her eyes on Kevin who started to whistle as he worked.

Faraday looked over his shoulder at Kevin and breathed through the sudden twisting in his gut. "Cedric in today?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Sam the Gossip hasn't gotten to you then." Sierra's hands went to her hips and she leaned in just slightly. "Cedric took early retirement."

Faraday kept his poker face in place. "And so we have a new guy."

"Yeah."

His eyes skimmed over Sierra but he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "I don't like this."

Sierra crossed her arms. "Well, get used to it. He came highly recommended. Hetty doesn't hire just anyone."

Faraday didn't reply on the subject. He rubbed his temples. "I'm doing the lunch run. Ryan is demanding something healthy. Figure I'll hit that pita place. You want your regular?"

Sierra smiled at the offer. Her stomach felt hollow, a reminder that she had slept through her alarm and, as a result, had to skip breakfast to get to work on time. "That would be nice."

He put his hands in his pockets but rocked forward on his feet and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll even take the hit to my testosterone and get you the pink twisty straw."

She smiled and then burst out into laughter. She absolutely adored this man. He didn't even have to ask for her order; he simply knew what she liked, including the childish pink twisty straw. "Thank you, Noah. I need the twisty straw today."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 1345 HRS: DEEKS RESIDENCE**

"Were you a good boy for Kensi? Were you? Were you?" Deeks scratched Monty behind the ears before giving his four-legged friend yet another hug. "Yes, you were! Oh, yes, you were!"

Kensi bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing at the antics before her. She found it oddly endearing to see her partner on his knees hugging his dog. Man's best friend indeed. He loved that mangy mutt and, for some inexplicable reason, it had her throat feeling tight.

Monty had become so excited upon Deeks's return he'd barked, jumped, wagged his tail, ran around and even peed a little on the floor. Deeks couldn't even find it in himself to be mad. He just continued to shower the dog with affection by hugging, baby-talking and ear-scratching. "Come on, let's go outside. Well, you go out." He eyed the little pee puddle. "I've got cleaning to do." He led the way through the house and opened the back sliding door. Monty darted past them, out onto the grass where he started to sniff out the perfect spot. Deeks left the door open so Monty could get back in.

Deeks turned around and smiled at Kensi. He'd missed her so much. His heart rate nearly doubled just because he realized that she looked so perfectly at home in his house, looked like she'd belonged there all along. He took in her beautiful face with its strong yet delicate features. She wore her usual attire, a dark green t-shirt and jeans that hugged her curves. Simple, casual even, and yet she captivated him completely. "Thank you for watching him."

She shrugged. "It's what partners are for."

He infringed upon her personal space until he had her pressed up against the fridge. "Partners?"

She swallowed hard while trying to ignore his cologne that made her want to daydream particularly naughty fantasies. "It's a pretty all-encompassing term," she replied, becoming embarrassed when her voice came out breathily.

"You're kind of all-encompassing," he murmured before his mouth was on hers and the rest of the world ceased to exist.


	46. Heavy Heart

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 1956 HRS: STERLING RESIDENCE**

"I think that went well," Renko decided as he took Jessica's hand and led her off the front porch of her family's home. "Your brother is quite talented with a paintbrush."

"Our parents put Jake into early development programs as soon as they were able- programs for speech, for art, for math. They wanted to be able to give him a good foundation," Jessica replied. "He really enjoyed the interest you showed in his work and supplies."

"Well, I know next to nothing about art so he taught me a thing or two." He walked to her side of the car and opened the door for her. "Milady," he teased.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she replied with a laugh before she slipped into the seat. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for Renko to get in the other side. "Thank you for doing this for me. You were really great with my family." She felt foolish, but there was a part of her that had fallen a bit in love with the persona of Kyle. She liked that he'd been attentive to Jake, that he'd chatted about sports stats with her younger brother Seth, that he'd been respectful to her father and charming with her mother.

"They're a great bunch," Renko replied easily. He patted the pockets of his jacket and found his keys.

"Why aren't you married?" Jessica asked suddenly.

He shoved the key in and started the vehicle up before he looked over at her. Her eyes were narrowed as she studied him in return. He hoped he hadn't complicated things between them with his constant flirting as his alias. He found curiosity in her expression but couldn't distinguish the intent behind it. Curiosity for the sake of curiosity or curiosity for the sake of interest? Instead of explaining, he shot the question back at her. "Why aren't you?"

"Because I'm young and-"

"Ouch, that hurts," he cut in and laughed as he reversed the vehicle out of the driveway.

"That's not what I meant," she muttered with a bit of embarrassment. "I just mean, I'm not ready to settle down. I like the idea. It's something I know I want down the road; I just don't want to be tied down right now. I like the single life."

"Who says I don't?" Renko shot back.

"You were so at home with my family. You settled right in, and they accepted you." That somehow made the deceit that much more difficult to bear, and Jessica actively kept her attention on Renko to ignore it. "And you enjoyed it."

"What's not to enjoy?" he responded with a slight jerk of his shoulder. "I got great conversation, some fun, a good meal out of our deal."

"I don't want to overstep bounds, but I'm a keen observer." Jessica narrowed her eyes on his profile and watched the way he adjusted his hands on the wheel. "I have worked for intelligence agencies; I know what I'm talking about. You appeared ready for that kind of life, to have someone steady, to be talking about the future."

He laughed in defence. "Jessica, we're undercover specialists!" He shook his head and hit the blinker as they pulled up to a stop sign. "I was Kyle, an alias you gave me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel. Fair question.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 2002 HRS: GETZ RESIDENCE**

Nate set his book down when he heard a knock on the door. He checked the identity of his visitor through the peephole and unlocked the door. "Mike, come on in." Nate took a step back. He had guessed that Renko would come sooner or later so the visit didn't come as too much of a surprise. "Make yourself at home. You want some coffee?"

"Ah, no thanks," Renko replied. "I won't be staying long."

"Take a seat," Nate insisted. Renko nodded and looked around. He never liked Nate's apartment- too dark, blinds shut, light on for reading. It unsettled him but he sat down on the one chair in Nate's living room. It didn't match the couch Nate dropped back down on. "What would you like to talk about?"

There was an ever-growing list of things he could have chosen, but some things, like what had come up with Jessica, he preferred to deal with on his own. He blew out a breath and ran his hand over two days' worth of facial hair. "Matt." Renko didn't figure his LAPD buddy would appreciate that he was talking to a shrink about him, but Renko needed the advice. "He looks so lost. Last I saw him he appeared to have lost weight. He had dark circles under his eyes. His temper, which has a very long fuse, seemed ready to burst but was kept at bay by-" He threw his arms up in a grand frustrated gesture. "I don't know, Nate. He's just so…" Renko struggled to find the words to make the psychologist understand. "Guarded, I guess."

"Understandable." Nate's voice was a soothing monotone. "He's lost a considerable amount in a short time. The respect of his colleagues. Likely some measure of self-respect and sense of self-worth. His job and his life as he knows it are on the line. Unlike in the line of duty, right now he can do nothing but sit and wait."

Renko frowned. "Matt's never been good at waiting."

"The trial is on Monday," Nate pushed with the hope that Renko would continue on his own.

"What if…?" Renko didn't even want to voice the concern that made his stomach churn. "What if he doesn't get out?"

"What if he does?" Nate replied quietly. "Either way things are going to be very difficult."

"A hell of a lot more difficult in solitary confinement," Renko argued bitterly.

Nate nodded. "If he doesn't get out, either he will become focused on working the legal system to try and get out or he will accept it as condemnation for his crimes and thus the punishment."

Renko remained quiet as he pondered Nate's words. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "If they convict him, I'm…" Renko struggled over the words. Nate had always played it straight with him. No matter what, if it was something Renko said off the books, it stayed off the books. It helped, and it meant a lot to him. "I'm afraid of what he will do."

"To the guards?" Nate asked gently.

"No," Renko whispered. "To himself."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11: 2209 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

Renko trudged up the stairs. He'd driven around for a while trying to rid himself of painful emotions. Talking to Nate had helped him sort out his thoughts and feelings but until he knew for certain what Matt's fate would be there was nothing he could do. He had done his job. He had done what he could for Jessica. Until Monday there was nothing he could do for Matt. Now, he found himself stepping into Angela's apartment for himself. Selfishly, he needed to see her, to be in her space.

Sugar ran over and jumped up on him. The warm greeting stabilized him. "Sugar, down!" Angela commanded from her spot at the island with her laptop. Her cool grey eyes checked him over, and she gave him a small smile. "There are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

"I'm fine, but thanks." He went into the fridge, grabbed a few blueberries and dropped them on the floor for Sugar to enjoy.

"You spoil her," Angela said, her amusement sounding much like approval. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old," he replied vaguely as he came around to look over her shoulder. Suddenly his throat felt tight and his heart constricted. "Wedding dresses." He managed to force the words out. She'd look beautiful in ivory. The thought left him cold.

Her eyes dropped back down to the page she had been searching. She chewed on her bottom lip. She'd started the search for styles that would look stunning on a petite woman and figured the A-Line, Modified A-Line and Empire styles would work best for Nell's figure and sense of style. Although Nell hadn't pointed out any while they'd browsed through magazines together, Angela thought that something quirkier like a Tea-Length dress would also suit the beautiful bride-to-be.

Angela had, however, strayed a bit from her task at hand. The dresses were just so fanciful that she hadn't been able to help herself. Under her tough exterior, she still had a soft spot. The ball gown style displayed on screen would overwhelm Nell's short stature but would give curves to Angela's athletic figure. She swallowed the lump in her throat; Renko surely wouldn't know what silhouette went with what body type. "Yeah, Nell is having trouble finding one that suits her taste," she managed to say evenly. "I offered my assistance."

He worked under the guidance of the very fashion-aware Hetty, and, as a man, he'd made a study of the female figure. His background knowledge told him that the ball gown would swallow little Nell whole. He then added in the fact that Angela had a different tab labeled 'Wedding Dresses for Petites' and surmised that she had lied to him. "For Nell?"

"Of course for Nell." She turned and saw how pale Renko had become. His green eyes turned on her and his eyebrows raised slightly for a brief second. She knew his tell- he didn't believe her. She strummed her fingers along the keys but didn't press any. "Did you think I was fantasizing?" she asked, sounding small even to her own ears.

"Uh, well." He rubbed the back of his neck. Rarely did he ever become uncomfortable in conversation with Angela; he could probably count the times on one hand. This time dread settled in his stomach and he couldn't quite figure out why.

"I'm not," she muttered. She felt incredibly foolish for allowing herself a momentary daydream, worse because he'd been a part of it. Her eyes flicked over to the vase of gorgeous flowers, ones he had picked for her, that sat on the counter. Would anyone really blame her for daydreaming?

"Okay." He just wanted the conversation to be dropped. He'd say just about anything to get the awkward tension between them to dissipate.

She closed the tab and returned to looking at the silhouettes she'd chosen for her colleague. "I'm just helping Nell."

"You're a good friend."

Her shoulder jerked in a casual half-shrug. "I'm never getting married." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. There had just been something about the way her partner had looked, pale and horrified upon finding her looking at wedding gowns that made her ashamed for wanting such a thing- especially when he was the only man who stuck in her thoughts.

He stared at her uncertainly. After a moment he dropped, rather than sat, on the stool next to her. "Why?" he pried, a sucker for punishment. He'd always imagined Angela as the marrying type.

Another half-shrug. "Not for me."

Another lie, he decided. She wouldn't meet his eye, and her clipped answers indicated that he wasn't going to get anything from her on the topic tonight and frankly he was happy to let it drop. "Okay."

"Are you?" she whispered after a moment.

"Am I what?"

She shot him a dirty look, her eyes a brewing storm. "Are you going to get married?"

"Doubt it." He never liked giving definitive yes or no answers; they didn't leave much for breathing room.

She nodded. "What about kids?" she asked, sounding very small again.

His adoration of the woman before him warred with his personal feelings. "Doubt it," he admitted softly.

"I should get some sleep." She shut the laptop and turned to look at him. He looked emotionally wrecked, and she knew damn well why. A small sigh escaped her lips. She turned toward him and slipped off the stool. "You should, too," she told him. She reached out thoughtlessly and caressed his cheek. He looked confused. She tried to smile for his sake. "Seriously, get some sleep."

He nodded as the scent of ylang-ylang messed with his mind. "I will." She kissed his forehead and left him with even more to think about.

::


	47. Renko's Team Night pt1

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 1023 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Nate had already consumed three cups of coffee and took a sip of his fourth. He flew through the paperwork he planned on finishing before noon. His leather day-planner sat open on his desk, the afternoon booked full of appointments. His cell phone started to ring. He knew any NCIS work-related calls would come through his office phone. Dark eyes fell upon the drawer that held his cellular device. It could be CIA, FBI, ATF or any number of agencies he'd assisted over the past few years. He had talked to Hetty already. She had assured him that until he gave consent he was an NCIS psychologist/occasional operative and would not be loaned out. He knew he would cave if asked. He didn't have the capacity to turn a blind eye if he could help; it went against his very nature. If someone wanted him, they would be smart to bypass NCIS channels completely and contact him directly. On the third ring, he gave up ignoring the call and pulled the phone out of the drawer.

He smiled at the display. He had assumed an agency but instead it was an individual he looked forward to speaking with. He answered immediately. "Hello, Delaney. How is New York?"

 _"It's keeping me busy,"_ she replied cheerily. _"I'm up to my eyeballs in boxes but I was able to close a sale on one of my properties this morning."_

He smiled. The liquidation of one of her properties meant she was one step closer to returning to Los Angeles. "Congratulations."

_"Thank you. How have you been?"_

"I'm good. Work is keeping me busy," he replied. His eyes turned to the clock on the wall, and he decided he could make up the time he took talking to her. "How did your last contract go?"

He heard her sigh over the line. _"It didn't,"_ she replied. _"Doesn't matter. It's likely for the best. I have more time to pack now."_ It bothered her; he could hear it in her voice.

"I thought you'd already signed on for a shoot." He still couldn't make heads or tails of how he felt about her being a lingerie model, regardless of whether she was heading toward retirement.

_"I had- HEY!"_

_"Hello?"_ A male voice came over the line. _"Who is this?"_

_"Anton! Give it back!"_

Male laughter came unapologetically through the line. _"Hey, is this 'Lover Boy?'"_

"Uh." Nate found himself at a loss for words.

Laughter rang once more. _"Her phone says you're Nathaniel."_ Anton said his name in a particularly scandalous way. _"Oh, my god, seriously, you're all this girl talks about anymore."_

 _"Oh, my god!"_ Delaney's humiliated groan came from a distance. Nate smiled at the new information. _"Anton, seriously, give me my phone back."_

_"You better be sure to give her R-E-S-P-E-C-T!"_

_"Did you get into my wine?"_

_"And your Aretha Franklin collection,"_ Anton admitted.

 _For a moment, static filled the line. "I'm so sorry about him,"_ Delaney said now that she had her phone back. _"He's been helping me pack."_

"Friend of yours?"

 _"Yeah,"_ she replied. _"Just for the record, I never called you 'Lover Boy.'"_

He smiled; she didn't argue that she talked about him with her friend. "Okay."

_"Look, I'll call you when you're not at work. Besides, Anton is drinking my wine and now he's packing up breakables."_

"Making you nervous?"

_"You have no idea. I've got to go."_

"I still want to know about that contract."

She sighed. _"I know. I'll talk to you about it later, okay?"_

"Alright, talk to you then."

 _"I miss you. Bye, Nate."_ She hung up quickly and left him feeling incredibly alone.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 1655 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

Faraday watched the clock on the wall ticking down the last five minutes of work since his team had no current case. They had assisted the FBI earlier in the day, did their reports in the afternoon and now sat back ready for their 'weekend' since Renko's team had Mondays and Tuesdays off.

He had a couple of things on his mind, things he would rather ignore, and chose something he could easily deal with. He looked diagonally across the room to where Renko tapped his pen to an impatient beat and stared at some spot on the wall. He still had the bet with Cooper about Renko and Angela getting together. He really hated to lose at anything and especially hated losing when money was involved.

Footsteps coming down the hallway drew his attention. A moment later Angela appeared in the doorway with a smug smile on her face as she looked at her partner. He wondered if he'd already won the bet and simply needed to prove it to Cooper.

"Hey," Renko greeted his partner with a bit of confusion. "What are you doing in today?"

She dropped a file down on his desk. "Psychological and medical clearance as well as my firearms requalification."

Renko opened the file and quickly flipped through its contents. "Looks like you're cleared for duty, Partner," he replied with a smile.

"This calls for a celebration!" Faraday decided impulsively. "None of us have to work tomorrow, and I know just the place. Coop, call Kimi. She'll want in on this."

"Where are we going?" Angela asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, it's- well, actually maybe that isn't the best place." Faraday ran his hand over his chin and maintained his poker face. "Not with the dress code." Cooper shot off a quick text to Kimi and then turned suspicious dark eyes on his partner. He knew that tone and wondered what the hell Faraday was up to.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Angela's grey eyes narrowed at Faraday.

He had to fight to keep the grin off his face. He knew Angela always went on the defensive, her natural reaction, and he used it to his advantage. "Nothing, nothing. It's just… you're kind of, you know…" He acted a little awkward, as if he hadn't meant to get himself into this position. "Plain."

Her head tipped forward just slightly, eyes narrowed and hands planted on her hips. "Plain?"

Renko made a cutting motion his hand in front of his neck, trying to get Faraday to save himself and stop talking. He knew the crisp, cool tone his partner currently used and it spelt out danger!

"For work." Jessica attempted to help Angela out. She still felt at odds with the other female agent and felt the need to try and make things work for the sake of the team. If Angela was coming back and she still had time on her probationary period, the two of them would be working with Renko. The quicker they made nice, the better things would be for all involved. "Surely she has something in her closet."

"Yeah, more jeans and t-shirts," Faraday replied with a little shrug of his shoulders. "Casual. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that. It's just that this place is dressier-"

"You talking about that underground place that plays the Latin music?" Cooper asked warily.

Faraday grinned at his partner. "Yeah."

"Dress code is 'less is better'." Cooper could see what his partner planned. He honestly felt a little stupid for not figuring it out sooner. In an attempt to defend his position on the bet, he shook his head. "Maybe we should go elsewhere."

Faraday shrugged and looked over at Angela. "I guess…" A challenge issued. He knew she couldn't resist.

"No. That place sounds fine. What time?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

He smiled cheekily, knowing he'd won. "How does nine sound?"

"Fine."

"Cooper is DD!" Faraday decided quickly.

"I was the designated driver last time," Cooper complained.

"You're the most sensible of us and you don't really drink anyway," Faraday replied. "Jessica, you in?"

"No can do," Jessica replied with a grin. "Rain check."

"You got a hot date?" Faraday asked.

"I got some none-of-your-business." So what if her plans were only to finally relax and finish off that romance novel she'd started reading months ago? Her teammates didn't need to know that. Besides, this impromptu event was for Angela and, while Jessica wanted things to work between them, she had no intention of pushing it.

"So, this is happening? Excellent." Faraday checked the clock before jumping from his seat. "I'm going to see if I can catch Sierra, see if she wants in." He managed to get past Angela before he let his mischievous smile loose.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2008 HRS: SICOTTI RESIDENCE**

"I'll get her," Faraday said as he opened the sliding door of the van. The group had talked Hetty into letting them take it out despite it not being for a case. _"Carpooling is good for the environment, Hetty; it's more cost effective to have a designated driver than to have everyone take cabs home."_ And because they were right, she let them. Since Cooper was driving, and he'd picked up Renko first, Faraday had got stuck in the back seat.

He knocked on the front door to Sierra's modest home and waited. He rarely had trouble maneuvering people where he wanted them. Sierra fell into a different category. He didn't want to move her; he wanted her to move on her own. Still, he'd asked if she wanted to come along and been shut down so he'd pressed, insisted, begged a little, joked around and mentioned the fact that Nate said she should get out more. He remembered her lips curving into a frown and the brief flicker of pain that crossed her face. Perhaps he should have dropped it but maybe she really did need that push.

The door opened. A hand reached out, grabbed him by the leather jacket and pulled him inside. He stumbled slightly and heard the door slam behind him. "I have nothing to wear!" she hissed at him. He blinked in confusion and looked at her in a plush white robe. "Why did you talk me into this? I can't just _not_ go now, not with Ry and Mike out there; they'll be all concerned. And then Kimi and Angela will be overly sympathetic. Okay, maybe not Angela but Kimi would look at me with pity in her eyes and, of course, I have nothing to wear to a place like this! When was the last time I went out to a-"

"Stop," he demanded sharply as he grabbed her shoulders. "Just stop." She did, freezing under his touch. He let her go. "Sorry."

She huffed out an angry breath. "Don't! Don't you do that to me!"

"I said I was sorry."

She shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?" he questioned. "I'm not doing anything!"

"Pity. Don't look at me with pity." She watched him as he ran his hand through his blond hair, which he'd actually put effort into styling and she took notice of. She also took notice that he'd dropped his usual trousers and dress shirt for something more casual. The black straight-legged jeans hung low on his hips, the grey t-shirt showed his muscle definition, the light brown leather jacket fit nicely and the black shoes were shined. Of course he looked amazing, he never looked anything but. She felt terrible being seen by him in her robe when she should be all dressed up.

He had the urge to roll his eyes but overcame it. "Is that the only problem? Something to wear?"

She swallowed hard. Fixing up her hair and doing her make-up had eaten up a large chunk of time. She'd rubbed on lotion and spritzed on some of her favourite perfume, enjoying the pure femininity of the ritual. Then she'd gone to her closet to look at her clothes. She had plenty, wore few. Her jeans and t-shirt staples didn't seem classy enough because she had heard of the place. "You didn't specify dress code," she accused instead of facing the question head on.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I know the guy who works the door."

"I'd stand out like a sore thumb." She focused on anger. Anger felt better than depression.

"Fine. We'll find something that works," he decided as he stepped around her quickly and headed directly for her bedroom.

"Woah! Where are you going?" she shouted as she followed him down the hallway. Dread sunk in with realization. "Don't go in my room!"

He didn't listen. He swung the door open, stepped in and paused. "I watched the news earlier. There was no mention of a localized tornado in the area. Meteorologists should have warned us." He took in the disaster of a room. Clothing, shoes and handbags were strewn about. He picked up a slinky black lace bra by the strap and let it dangle from one finger, his eyes cutting over to her.

She ripped the bra from his grasp and shoved it into the nearest drawer. "I have nothing to wear."

"You have plenty to wear," he insisted. "The tornado just messed it all up." He stepped over things carefully and made his way to the closet. The doors were open. He looked at what remained. A few evening dresses still hung inside but were too fancy for where they were going. A couple of sweaters had escaped the rampage. He frowned and looked around the room. "Do you still have that blue dress?"

"What?"

"That blue dress," he persisted as he looked around the room for it. "You wore it to Cooper's birthday a couple years ago, remember?"

She did, and it surprised her that he did, too. "That was a long time ago," she said quietly.

He turned and looked at her. She looked small and unhappy. He hated that he had played a role in making her feel that way. Blowing it off, he turned around. "We don't have time for this," he decided quickly. "We still have to pick up Kimi and Angela. Here." He threw a pair of black skinny jeans at her and did a half turn. He picked up a white tank top and threw that over his shoulder in her direction and scoured the floor until he found a sheer baby blue shirt with a studded collar. "That'll do." He dropped it on her shoulder as he passed her. "You've got five minutes and then I'm coming back in here and I'll finish dressing you myself," he threatened before he walked out and shut the door.

In the hallway, he wondered if he'd pushed too far. He waited a moment to see if she'd come out and start yelling at him but instead he heard movement from inside. A small smile graced his lips and he waited.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2037 HRS: NIIGATA RESIDENCE**

Faraday kept sneaking glances over at Sierra. It had been a long time since she had dressed up, since he had seen her anything she wouldn't wear into a garage. The dark denim hugged her hips and toned legs; the knee-high leather boots with a stiletto heel gave her a dangerous looking edge that he found insanely sexy. He could see the outline of the tank top under the blue blouse. Her perfume was enticing and he leaned slightly away from her, trying to keep from saying or doing anything he'd regret later.

The van took the corner a little wide and Cooper had to back up a bit before shifting the vehicle back in drive and pulling into Kimi's driveway. Renko laughed and both Faraday and Sierra joined in. "Good driving there, Coop," Renko said.

"Oh, shove it," Cooper replied bitterly. "This thing drives like a goddamned RV."

"Yeah, which most people can drive," Faraday chimed in. He rarely missed an opportunity to get dig in on his partner.

Cooper huffed out a breath and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'll grab Kimi," he muttered before getting out. He hated driving vans. He was used to driving his car or a similar sized vehicle during ops. Vans had that extra length, and, of course, this one seemed like it was from the seventies. He couldn't bash it too much, not with Sierra in the vehicle, but it didn't make turns quite as well as he thought it should.

He rapped on the door and waited. He heard the chain and deadbolt slide out of place just before the door opened. "Hey." She smiled up at him. "Just give me one minute," she said, holding up one finger as she hurried back in. He chuckled and followed her inside. He leaned against the wall and watched her transfer what she needed from her large purse to a small black evening bag. The little black dress she wore hugged her body and shimmered whenever she moved. He licked his lips as his eyes trailed down from her slender shoulders to the navy blue kitten heeled booties she wore on her feet. She turned back to face him. "Alright, I'm good to go!"

"Excellent." He smiled and caught sight of the bold purple streak that coloured a portion of her hair. "You look amazing," he complimented.

"Thank you. It's one of Hikaru's," she said, skimming her hand over the fabric. "Plus side to having a fashion designer for a sister."

His eyebrows rose just slightly. "I wasn't talking about the dress, Kimi."

She swallowed hard and stared at him while she processed his words. His slate grey dress pants were toned down from professional by a white t-shirt partially covered by a dark blue sports jacket. His hair still looked wildly out of control and it made her smile. "Well," she said. "Thank you again. You look good, too." She bit her bottom lip, her lips still curving into a wicked smile. "And I'm not talking about your sports jacket either." She stepped past him and twirled back to him masterfully. "Are you coming?"

He closed the space between them, leaned in and heard her breath catch. Teasingly, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and put his arm over her shoulder. "Alright, let's go." She let out a sigh but let him lead her out of her home.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2055 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

The van jumped the curve when it pulled into the parking lot under the 'Tony's Tire's' sign. "Not a word," Cooper growled before the guys could start ribbing him again. He watched as Renko pulled out his phone. "Got a call? It's not Hetty, is it?" With each passing minute he was getting more excited about this little team get together, especially since they'd picked up Kimi in that sultry black number.

"No, no call," Renko replied. "I'm just texting Ange to let her know we're here."

"You can't be serious," Cooper muttered while shaking his head.

"What?"

"You don't just text a woman and tell her to come down!" Cooper admonished. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'll go get her," Faraday volunteered while throwing open the side door. "My legs are all squished back here anyway." He gave Renko's seat one last kick as he got out.

"I'll go," Renko argued now that the guys had ganged up on him.

"Don't worry, I got this," Faraday replied, trying to hold back a smirk.

"I said I'm going." Renko followed the younger agent. He passed Faraday to open the door and deactivate the alarm. The two men took the stairs and, since Faraday was there with him, Renko bothered to knock.

"It's open," Angela called. "Sugar, you behave yourself. It's just Mike."

The two agents walked into the open area of Angela's place. The kitchen and living room were both a little dusty but more of the hardwood had been installed. Angela pulled back the blanket that separated the living space from the bedrooms. She stepped out a little nervously. The dress showed more leg than she was used to and she hated wearing makeup but Faraday's comments had really gotten under her skin. She'd had to rush to a store to buy the dress just to prove a point, but, as long as the point was made, she figured she would get her money's worth. She held her ear. Knowing she'd started to put on the earrings in the kitchen, she presumed she had left the back of it there. She had expected Renko but not Faraday, too. Both sets of eyes gave her a quick look over.

Renko remembered a few seconds later that he needed to breathe. She literally took his breath away. The sight of his usually very modest partner in something that hugged her modest curves and highlighted her mile long legs shocked him. The natural makeup lacked the heavy eyeliner or dark lipstick that most women wore to clubs and made her androgynous features look incredibly feminine. Her hair fell down around her face in waves and helped to take the edge off her sharp cheekbones. "Hey," he managed to greet her casually.

She flashed him a quick grin. "Hey."

Faraday gave Angela a quick look over before his eyes turned to take in Renko's expression, which was a straight up poker face. A little disappointment settled in Faraday. He really hoped he hadn't read the entire situation incorrectly. He turned back to Angela. Her hair was down for once and she wore a bit of make-up. The long-sleeved silver sheath dress had a high straight neckline with dark beads decorating the shoulders. It stopped just above her knees. On her feet she wore strappy flat sandals. Faraday frowned. She could have done better than this to prove him wrong. This was downright modest; least she could have done was show some cleavage.

She still held her right ear and looked around. "Oh, there it is," she muttered and walked into the kitchen, giving them a look at the back. Faraday smiled. The dress was backless and the dark beads outlined where the dress ended and her alabaster skin began. He glanced at Renko who, much to Faraday's dismay, still maintained his poker face. She turned back, the dangling silver earrings standing out against her dark red hair. "Do we already have everyone?" she asked. "Or do we need to pick up anyone else?"

Faraday turned to Renko, but, when it seemed he wouldn't be answering, he spoke up. "No, we're ready to go. By the way, you look great."

A smug smile came upon her face as she grabbed her black handbag from the counter. "Thank you, Noah." Playing it to his advantage, Faraday offered his arm, which she laughingly accepted.

Renko's eyes trailed down the curve of Angela's spine. The dress made him feel mildly uncomfortable- kind of like being a teenage boy with a crush on that popular girl every guy wanted to get with. He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys at the club leering at her. "You sure you want to wear that?"

Faraday winced and paused mid-stride because Angela had full out halted. She shot a dark look over her shoulder, her eyes reflecting the brewing storm of her temper. "What's wrong with it?"

"I didn't say- I mean- it's just that-" Renko fumbled for words and pushed both hands through his hair.

Faraday almost smiled. "We're going to be fending off the men who will be lining up to hit on you is what he's saying," he attempted to soothe the moment between the partners. He told himself it was just because he wanted to win the bet but he found his heart in it. He wanted his two friends to be happy and sensed that they would be happy together. "Right, Mike?"

Renko huffed out a breath at being put on the spot. Faraday had saved his hide. "Yeah, right," he muttered. Angela didn't look convinced. She shot him one last haughty look before she turned on her heel and led the way out. Faraday shot him a questioning look, and Renko just put up a hand. "Not a word, Noah."

"You're the boss," Faraday replied as he followed them out and shut the door behind himself.


	48. Renko's Team Night pt2

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2123 HRS: RABID HATTER**

The group surpassed the long line after Faraday talked to one of the bouncers. It still didn't help Cooper shake the tension away. "I always get the feeling that things are about to go horribly wrong whenever we go here." Cooper had to raise his voice at his partner just to be heard over the quick beat of the music. "I mean, this place used to be an insane asylum. That's got to be bad mojo."

The Rapid Hatter did have a history as a mental institution, which explained its horribly inefficient layout. The main bar and dance floor used to be the cafeteria plus a couple of patient rooms. The bar was a cool stainless steel, bottles were lined up on glass shelves, and the bartenders wore white coats behind the bar. The tiles on the dance floor were plain white, cracks showing the age of those that remained from the building's first purpose. Large speakers were set up in the corners and played music at a level that made people have to get close and speak loudly if they wanted to be heard. There were two separate VIP areas located on either side of the bar. Each section was raised two steps above the rest of the area with gleaming metal poles that deterred people from simply entering; a bouncer guarded the gap where people could easily enter. Seating against the walls was plush; tables were stainless steel; chairs were a mix of clear plastic and gleaming metal.

"I didn't know you were superstitious," Sierra said. She stood comfortably between Faraday and Cooper, whose larger statures kept her from getting bumped. Mike, Angela and Kimi had ventured a few steps ahead them but she felt secure surrounded by friends.

"I'm not," Cooper denied while shoving his hands into the pockets of his slate grey dress pants. "It just doesn't seem right, that's all."

A teasing smile formed upon Faraday's face. "Are you done being a six year old girl?"

Angela touched both Renko and Kimi's arms so they'd know she intended on stopping. She turned on her heel, and the group created a small circle. "It's crowded," Angela declared, loud enough to be heard over the music. "Every single chair in the place is taken. We'll be waiting twenty minutes just to get up to the bar. Let's get VIP service."

Faraday knew just how much it cost for VIP, and he shook his head. He doubted that anyone in the group wanted to pitch in the couple hundred dollars just to sit in the VIP section. "That shit is expensive at most clubs. Here it is insanity," Faraday argued. Renko groaned and Cooper rolled his eyes at the terrible play on words.

"You owe the jar a dollar!" Kimi shouted.

"Aw, come on!" Faraday protested. "It's our off time!"

Angela pulled her credit card from her bag and held it out to Faraday. "Get us a booth."

Faraday inspected the card and smiled at her. "We need to do this more often."

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2135 HRS: RABID HATTER**

The VIP section of the Rabid Hatter was considerably quieter than the dance floor and permitted an easier flow of conversation, which the team took full advantage of. Since they were waited upon, they didn't have to spend any time in lines at the bar. The sultry Latin music had nearly everyone on the dance floor as coloured lights waved overhead. The atmosphere sparked with excitement and playfulness.

The team sat around the table. Angela and Cooper sat against the wall with Kimi squished between them. Faraday, Sierra and Renko sat across from them in the surprisingly comfortable chairs.

"Why do they always play Latin music here?" Cooper wondered out loud. "I mean, they take the mental institution gimmick pretty far, so why that choice in music?"

"It's Sunday," Faraday replied. "They change it up every day of the week. It's not usually this packed on a Sunday but it'll likely clear out earlier than usual."

Kimi clapped her hands together and leaned her head against Angela's shoulder. "Our drinks are coming!"

Angela let loose a carefree smile. "I bet you're a fun drunk."

Kimi laughed. "You're about to find out!" She thanked the waitress when her daiquiri showed up.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2201 HRS: RABID HATTER**

"Come on, Beautiful, one dance!" the man called out from beyond the stainless steel barrier.

The bouncer looked back at Sierra, who once again shook her head. "Sorry, not interested." The bouncer had words with Sierra's admirer and the man shrugged and turned his affections on the next nearest woman.

"Too bad," Faraday said sarcastically. "He seemed like a real gem." Sierra's eyes narrowed but her lips curved upward.

Kimi sipped on her fourth daiquiri and nearly spilt it in her haste to put it down. "I love this song!" she proclaimed. Her eyes cut right to Cooper. "Dance with me."

It didn't sound like a question as much as an order, and Cooper smiled. "Sure you can manage in those heels, Drunky?"

She stood and twirled with a flourish before she started to rock her hips in time with the beat beside the table. "Afraid you can't keep up, Sober?" she challenged.

Cooper shook his head, knowing he now had no choice but to dance or have the guys tease him incessantly. He stood and held his hand out to her. "You're on."

For someone so tiny, Kimi did hold her alcohol quite well. A tingle of nerves shot through her as she led the way through the crowd of people. Cooper's hand tightened on her hip and she paused a moment until he was right behind her again. Her back to his chest felt delightfully sinful and, in her inebriated state, she thought nothing of leaning back against him. She tilted her head back and stared up at him. "Hi."

He smiled and she sighed. Ridiculously handsome. How could someone have such soulful eyes? Or such lovely hair? She really wanted to run her hands through his hair. His hand slid along hers and a second later he had twirled her around and pulled her close. "Hi," he replied. "Still think you can keep up?"

She smiled and took one half-step closer to eliminate the space between them. "Absolutely."

His first steps were in time but easy just to get a sense of how drunk she was. He had danced with her briefly on other occasions but not while she was inebriated or insistent on staying so damn close. Not that he minded. He didn't mind. He kind of minded. He shouldn't mind. Any other man wouldn't have an internal debate about it.

He increased the difficulty of his steps but she kept up and even had the flourish of her hips and shoulders with her steps. Impressively graceful dancing. He'd guess that she'd had lessons in her youth. Her hips swayed in time with his. He didn't mind. He kind of minded. He shouldn't mind. Kimi had, in one dance, become his complication. He adored her, admired her, and would very likely be completely in love with her if he could only take down the walls he'd build up around his heart when his wife had died. Then there was Emma. What he wanted came second to what was best for his daughter. He hadn't yet figured out what that was. How did one have that kind of conversation with their child when bringing a new person into their life? Despite the shift from colleagues to friends and into flirtation, he couldn't yet take the steps toward a relationship. Their lives wouldn't, couldn't, wait for uncomplicated. They had already taken tentative steps outside of the friend-zone and he wanted that, but was it what was best? And was now really the time to be considering it?

Kimi stepped on his foot and quickly took two steps back and started to apologize. It wasn't her fault that he had lost focus on what he was doing. He pulled her back in, already missing the feel of her. "It was my bad," he informed her. "But don't tell the guys, okay?"

She smiled, leaned in and winked conspiratorially. "Mum's the word." The song ended but they stayed out on the dance floor.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2250 HRS: RABID HATTER**

"I can't believe those two are still going at it." Sierra shook her head as she looked at Cooper and Kimi out on the dance floor. They'd returned briefly and demanded water from the waitress before they'd rushed right back out on the dance floor.

"They're having fun," Angela replied. She was enjoying the red wine that the bar had stocked. She and Sierra had split two bottles since they'd arrived, Sierra taking it a little harder than Angela.

Sierra frowned. "I have to pee."

"I'll go with you." Angela stood up and looked at Faraday and Renko who remained seated. She put her finger on the top of the empty wine bottle. "If our waitress returns, I want another one of these. You should probably get another pitcher of water. Otherwise, we'll all be dehydrated and insanely hung-over tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother," Faraday said in a long-suffering manner. In response, Angela flicked the shell of his ear. She walked past the bouncer, completely oblivious to the way Renko's eyes followed her. Faraday, however, was not oblivious and smiled widely.

Sierra struggled to find something to say to the female agent. She and Angela were friendly enough to one another, acquaintances more than friends. Given the nature of their job, both were prone to keeping secrets. "I like the wine you chose." She started with an easy point of conversation, something they both enjoyed. She kept close to Angela, just a step behind as the taller woman cleared them a path.

"I have a weak spot for a good bottle of red," Angela replied, shooting a smile over her shoulder.

The smile was a rarity, at least in Sierra's experience, and she was quick to return it. "Who doesn't'?"

Angela laughed and pointed out on the floor. "Kimi. But those daiquiris seem to be treating her just fine!"

Sierra followed Angela's finger to where Kimi and Cooper were giving a new meaning to dirty dancing. She let out a low whistle at the sexy moves the two were performing. "I feel like I should avert my eyes."

"I bet he's good in bed," Angela decided as the two took up space on the dance floor to gawk.

Sierra nearly choked on air and turned to stare at Angela. "You aren't thinking about Coop, are you?"

"Of course," Angela replied and then turned to Sierra to see the shocked look. "I'm not thinking about getting between the sheets with him if that is where your head was going but I am talking about Cooper."

"In bed," Sierra elaborated. "You're thinking about Cooper in bed."

"I'm just hypothesising that he would be good in bed," Angela continued, the alcohol loosening the filter between what she thought and what she said. "Here is my theory." She leaned in a little and put an arm around Sierra's shoulders in an act of solidarity. She felt the other woman tense but didn't remove her arm. "I figure dance is a lot like foreplay with your clothes on. If a man is a good dancer, it seems like a pretty good indicator that he'd be good in bed." Angela wiggled her eyebrows and dropped her arm. Once again, she pointed out to where Kimi and Cooper were dancing. "And if the way he moves his hips is any indication, he's very good in bed."

Sierra stayed perfectly still. She listened to the music, a track with a quick beat and a sultry woman's voice. She ran her hand over her shoulder where Angela's hand had been as if she could erase the touch that had been completely platonic. She focused on the lovely feminine scent of Angela since she stood so close. Panic came in a wave and went out with the tide. "I really do have to pee," she said.

"Oh, yeah, bathrooms," Angela said as though she'd forgotten completely. Once again she looked around trying to find the sign and regain her bearings in the large place packed with people.

Sierra jolted and released a surprised shriek when the man who had hit on her earlier grabbed her wrist. "Hi there, Beautiful," he slurred. "Wanna dance?"

"Let go." Sierra felt blinded by fear and doubted that the alcohol was doing her any favours. The scent of beer became musty and damp. The music faded into silence.

"Just one dance, Beautiful. Come on," the man insisted.

"She's with me." Angela grabbed the guy's hand, squeezed and twisted it, forcing him to release Sierra. Her grey eyes narrowed in warning as she put herself between Sierra and the man. "Come on, Love." Angela shot Sierra a wink and once again put her arm over the smaller woman's shoulders.

Sierra forced one foot in front of the other. The sound of the music returned. Being so close to Angela, she could once again smell the warm feminine fragrance she wore. The touch still had her on edge. The fact that it was protective didn't overwrite her fear. Angela pushed open the bathroom door and ushered Sierra in first. Sierra took a deep breath and walked unsteadily to the automatic sinks. She held her hand under the faucet and let the lukewarm water fall over her hands.

In the mirror she saw the reflection of Angela standing a few feet away looking much more uncertain about the situation than she had on the dance floor. "I hate it when people ask me if I'm okay when I'm clearly not," Angela blurted. Frowning, she walked over to the sinks but maintained a distance.

"Are you saying I'm not okay?" Sierra asked.

Angela remained quiet for a minute as she stared at Sierra. "You handled yourself very well."

Sierra chewed on the inside of her cheek. "How much do you know about me?"

"The office gossip is worse than high school girls. I assume I know the bare minimum," Angela admitted. "I'm sorry I touched you. I didn't think about it. I'm drunk. Don't tell Mike I admitted that; he'll cut me off."

Sierra managed a small smile. The tough red-haired agent really cared about what her partner thought. "It didn't bother me so much." Sierra frowned, realizing she wasn't being very clear. "The touch. Usually it bothers me a lot. When that guy grabbed me, I wasn't okay. But when you put your arm around me…" Sierra shrugged. She'd have to talk it over with Nate. "Maybe because you're a woman. But I've still had bad reactions when women touch me."

"Maybe because you've been drinking?" Angela suggested.

"Maybe you just smell nice and that gave me something to focus on, to ground me to here and now."

Angela shrugged but her inner negotiator with a psychology background kicked in with the need to give praise. "Still, you did very well." She remained quiet for a moment as she watched Sierra shake her hands dry and dispense some paper towel. "Everything happens for a reason. Someone special told me that. Recently, I've been giving it a lot of thought." She talked more when drunk, the filter that usually discarded things allowed for more elaboration. "I got hurt when I was pregnant, lost the child," she admitted but it didn't hit her as hard as talking about it usually did. She felt the need to open up, to share with Sierra, to put them on even ground.

Sierra stared at the other woman, surprised by the new information. She yearned for a family of her own when she was younger, before her life ended up a twisted mess. She could imagine it, so close, a little life growing within her. What she couldn't imagine was the horrible loss of having it taken away. Her body reacted empathetically, responding to the pain in Angela's voice, heartbeat quickening, her eyes becoming glossy.

"It sounds terrible, but now I think it had to happen," Angela continued softly. "I wasn't ready; I wasn't with the right person; my baby wouldn't have had the right life. One day, if I'm ready, if I'm with the right person, if I'm meant to have that life, I will. Maybe I needed to know that loss, maybe I need to understand it, to better empathize with another distraught mother someday."

Drunk enough to play along with the philosophical moment they were having, Sierra tilted her head. "I watched my partner be tortured and murdered. I was raped. Everything happens for a reason? That happened for a reason?" It hurt to say, even in such a blunt and detached fashion, it hurt to think, to consider.

Angela frowned. "I like to think that it wasn't senseless. That we understand more about humanity, about ourselves, about those who love us, those who stuck by us, those who didn't." She leaned her hip against the counter. "I want all the bad things to mean something. I don't want them to be for nothing and so they won't be. I'm not going to let Griffin or my parents or anyone else who was a total shit have any power over me, but I'm also not going to make the same mistakes. When I'm with someone this time around, I'm going to mean it. And if I'm lucky enough to one day be a mother, I'm going to be a great one, infinitely better than my parents. I'm going to listen, I'm going to see, because I know what it's like be someone's afterthought." She wiped her face realizing she was crying. "Fuck, I'm really drunk. I'm sorry. I think I said some stuff that was likely incredibly insensitive. I'm not very sensitive to others. I'm working on it. Empathetic, that's the word I was looking for. I'm not empathetic enough." Sierra watched Angela devolve from the philosophical drunk to a weepy one. Angela sniffled and smeared some of her mascara. She glanced in the mirror and sighed. "Waterproof my ass."

Sierra watched as Angela grabbed some toilet paper, wet it and washed away the black streak under her right eye while considering the red-haired woman's words. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this," Sierra said, understanding the thought and yet, just like all the years past, she still had no idea how to move past it. "I can't believe that all this happened just to make me understand or to make me a better person. Was I so bad?"

"That's not what I said," Angela said, hasty to fix the thought she feared she put in the other woman's mind. "We get the hand that we're dealt. Either we let the cards control how we bet or we pull an ace out of our sleeve and change it all in our favour. We are the masters of our lives."

"A minute ago you were on the side of fate, now you're saying we're the masters of our lives." Blue eyes stared into grey. "You're really drunk."

Angela laughed. "Yeah, I am. Look, you were dealt a bad hand for whatever reason or, if you prefer, no reason at all, but it's your choice whether you fold or play those cards. Or you know, cheat a little and pull an ace out of your sleeve."

"Are you saying I've folded my cards all these years?" Sierra asked, trying to keep her intoxicated mind up with the metaphors.

"Yes," Angela replied. "And I did the same for the first twenty some-odd years of my life. And then I played them, was bad at it and lost everything because I went all in so then I played on stolen cards and willpower."

Sierra raised an eyebrow. "Now what do you play?"

Angela gave Sierra a soft smile. "I decided I wanted a new hand. Simple as that. I didn't want the old hand. I didn't want the stolen cards regardless of how I reordered them to win; it was an empty win. So I have new cards and I love them all very much."

"I don't know how to have a new hand."

The older agent remained quiet for a moment while she came up with an answer. "Whatever it is you hold, whatever it is you fear, let it go or find someone to strip you of it. Sometimes it takes a long time to let go of all your cards but only then can you have your new hand." She tilted her head. "Then again, I'm very drunk. You probably shouldn't take life advice from an intoxicated woman, especially one who has made as many questionable life decisions as I have." She looked over at the stalls. "I know women usually go to the bathroom to gossip, but I actually do have to tinkle."

Sierra smiled. "Me, too, and Ange?" The grey eyes turned to face her. "Thank you."

Angela reached out and lightly touched Sierra's shoulder. "Thank you for being part of my new hand," Angela said quite seriously before walking away. Sierra ran her hand over where Angela had touched her physically but, more importantly, she'd been touched emotionally by the new connection and blatant honesty from the agent.


	49. Renko's Team Night pt3

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12: 2310 HRS: RABID HATTER**

The wait for the women to return gave Renko time to think, time he didn't want to have. His best friend sat terrified in an isolated cell wondering if tomorrow he would have freedom or have the key thrown away. Come morning, Renko would wear a suit and go to the courthouse to await the verdict of the very private trial. The thought made his stomach roll, and he shot a nervous glance at his Scotch and soda.

"What is taking them so long?" Faraday inquired. He downed a shot of tequila that had been purchased for him by another woman in the VIP section. He'd declined her advances but raised the empty glass in a thank you salute.

"Women. Bathroom. This isn't even surprising," Renko replied, leaning on his elbows. "It's what they do. They 'freshen up,' which is code for 'gossip.'"

The tall brunette, who had arrived earlier with a group of women who had also sprung for VIP, walked over and touched Faraday's shoulder. "Did you enjoy your shot?"

"I did. Thank you," he replied briefly. He didn't even bother looking at her. It might be rude, but the more he drank, the less he cared. He worried about what Sierra would think, and that distracted him from the other woman's advances.

"You've been sitting here since I got here. You haven't gone out to dance once." She flipped her long hair back and put her hand on her hip. Neither move got his attention. She touched his hair; he jerked away. She pouted. "Come on, one dance. People come here to have fun."

Renko witnessed something in that moment he hadn't seen since working with Faraday. The man's face hardened, typically warm green eyes turning feral. He turned and looked up at the gorgeous woman with complete indifference. "I'm not interested in some tart wearing too much makeup and a dress so short that I wouldn't be getting anything that everyone in this club hasn't already gotten a glimpse of." The words were spoken with the kind of venom that would poison one's mind and forever change how they saw themselves. Renko stared in complete shock at a man he'd known for years. A small gasp escaped the woman's lips and she reached out to slap Faraday but he was much faster and caught her wrist. He stood, keeping ahold of her. "I despise women like you," he said in that same cold and detached manner. "Do yourself a favour and find some self-respect." He released her and watched the tears fall. With sudden kindness, he brushed away her tears, only to have her shove him and quickly slap him across the face. Renko knew Faraday could have caught this one just as easily but he hadn't bothered. She turned on her heel and walked back to the far table away from them. Faraday sat back down and chugged the rest of the beer he'd ordered.

"What the hell was that?" Renko demanded once the shock wore off.

"Forget about it." Faraday waved his hand dismissively. "Girls like her don't get the point unless you cut right to it. They are used to getting whatever they want from everyone so unless you're a little heartless about the letdown they don't let go."

"It was unnecessary," Renko argued.

Faraday shrugged and turned, smiling at the return of Sierra and Angela. "Ladies, welcome back," he greeted as the two women reclaimed their seats. "Did you get lost?"

"Long line in the ladies' room," Angela said, grinning at Sierra before sitting up completely straight, eyes becoming a little unfocused, a dopey grin transforming her face. "What is this song? This is a great song." She bobbed in her seat to the beat.

Refocusing on his primary goal of the evening, Faraday saw the opening and took it. "Come on." He stood. He looked over at Sierra and shot her a wink before he returned his attention to Angela. "Great songs are meant to be danced to."

Angela stood and shot Faraday the same happy smile she'd worn continuously since her third drink. "I like the way you think."

"I didn't think you could dance," Renko interrupted. Angela shot him a dirty look and raised her eyebrow. He raised his hands defensively. "You were so adamant on that one case when we went to Hyde that there would be no dancing." At the time they had still been sorting out the kinks in their working relationship; they could have hardly even been called friends at that point. Colleagues, acquaintances, they hadn't had anywhere near the level of trust and respect they had for one another now.

"We were on a job. I'm a professional and, at the time, I didn't want to dance with you," she informed him briskly. She linked arms with the grinning Faraday, and Renko knew his partner had a point to prove. "I can dance just fine."

Kimi and Cooper arrived at Angela's proclamation. "What is going on?" Cooper asked with a sheen of sweat on his face and soaking through his shirt. He abandoned the sports jacket and poured two glasses of water from the pitcher. Kimi, who had clipped her hair up in an attempt to stay cool, happily took a big gulp of hers.

"Renko doesn't think Angela can dance," Faraday happily added fuel to the fire.

"I didn't say that. I said… It's just that…" Renko paused, annoyed that in his drunken state he kept fumbling with what he wanted to say. "She insinuated that she couldn't previously."

"I insinuated that I didn't want to dance at the time." Angela shook her head. "We need to work on our communications skills. Now, this debate can wait but the song only plays once!"

"Then, come on." Faraday gave her a tug. They both laughed as they headed out on the dance floor.

"I'm going to feel this tomorrow," Cooper said. He checked his watch. By the time he got home he figured he would have very little sleep before his daughter would start jumping on the bed to wake him up. He wouldn't regret the night, the fun he'd had or how close he felt to his team nor would he regret the morning that would bring him the happiness of his wonderfully energetic little girl. He'd feel his age. He was no longer the twenty year old who could keep up with the full work day, the partying all night, the lack of sleep, and the full day of responsibilities ahead but he wouldn't regret a moment of it. Kimi's head rested against his shoulder. He put his arm around her, happy to hold her close.

Sierra watched Faraday and Angela out on the dance floor. She expected a tame friendly dance, but she watched with an increasing sick feeling in her stomach. Faraday could move and Angela kept in time with every single step. Their bodies pressed together. It hurt to think that they looked good together; it hurt to see how in sync they were. The alcohol only seemed to help Angela to become more fluid in comparison to her typical stiff and defensive movements. Each move was increasingly sexual, as if they were trying to one up the other.

A torch in her heart burned with Faraday's name on it, even after all these years. Her budding friendship with Angela left her feeling deceived and rotten inside. Unable to continue watching despite the way Cooper whistled and Kimi giggled, she could find no joy in the friends having fun. And he'd winked at her. He'd had the audacity to ask Angela to dance and then wink at her like she was in on some kind of secret. She wished she'd stayed home; she'd be happier at home.

She tore her eyes off the wall, looking for a distraction, a conversation. She looked at Renko only to find a napkin in his hands being torn into tiny shreds. His eyes had hardened and zeroed in on the dancing pair. She studied the hard, angry lines of his face and followed his eyes back to the dance floor. Faraday turned Angela and, with her back to his chest, they continued a few steps, his lips to her ear; whatever he said made her tip her head back and laugh. She turned back to Renko and understood. She understood Faraday's wink to her. She understood the game of one-upmanship, perhaps even better than Angela did. Sierra figured the other woman would be pretty oblivious to how Faraday was currently manipulating her and her partner. Faraday clearly wanted to create a green-eyed monster in Renko, and Sierra saw that his plan had succeeded.

Wanting someone else to be in on it, she stuck out her boot and lightly nudged Kimi's leg. Kimi looked over and raised an eyebrow. Sierra subtly raised her chin toward Renko, who sat across from her. Kimi leaned forward just slightly to see the look on Renko's face. Kimi turned back to Sierra and raised her eyebrow in question. Sierra then pointed one thumb over her shoulder. Kimi looked to Angela and Faraday and then to Renko. Her mouth formed a gleeful 'o.'

The tension rose with the tempo until something had to give. That something was Michael Renko. Suddenly he was out of his seat, surprising only Cooper, who, while sober, had remained completely unaware of the situation. Cooper and Kimi leaned for a better view and Sierra turned in her seat.

Like it had been planned, and Sierra knew on some level that it had been, Faraday kept hold of one hand but twirled Angela out only to have Renko grab her other hand and be the one to pull her in. Without a word or even giving her a moment to regain her sense of balance after being pulled in the opposite direction than she'd been expecting, his hand gripped the hair at the back of her head and pulled her in for a world-shattering kiss. The need to claim her overcame logic and common sense. Seeing her with another man nearly drove him mad. She opened herself to him without pausing a single moment. She'd known him the moment he grabbed her hand and when his lips met hers everything became infinite. Lost in the moment, her hand tangled in his hair and, if there were a dark corner she could have dragged him off to, she would have. The two remained completely unaware of their audience, of the self-satisfied smirk Faraday had on as he returned to the VIP section, the cursing Cooper did as he pulled out the money for the bet, the clapping Kimi did in their favour, the head shake and smile Sierra gave Faraday. They were oblivious, blissfully oblivious, because for a second the world was theirs.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0014 HRS: RABID HATTER**

"But the van does not become a pumpkin at midnight!" Kimi protested loudly to Faraday's suggestion that it was time to leave.

"We're taking a cab," Angela announced. She picked up Kimi's daiquiri and stole a sip since there wasn't any more wine readily available. "I live kind of out of the way. It just seems smarter to share cab fare."

"Are you seriously going to try to say it isn't because you want to jump Mike's bones?" Kimi snickered. Angela's face turned bright red to match her hair.

Renko's eyes cut to Kimi and then the rest of his team. "We're not talking about what happened tonight."

"Talking about what?" Cooper played stupid for the benefit of the team and shot his partner a meaningful look that told Faraday to keep comments to himself.

"What Ryan said," Faraday said with a grin.

"Why are we pretending this isn't happening? This is great!" Kimi said, slurring her words slightly.

"They're partners, team members and, technically, Renko is her boss," Faraday spelt it out of her. He then turned to Renko. "You're taking advantage of your partner, you rascal you." He jumped and rubbed his shin at the sudden pain. He glared across the table at Cooper. "Uncalled for!"

"Take that cab and in the morning, when everyone is firing on all cylinders, we will all play the game of forgetfulness," Cooper insisted, shooing them with one hand. "And, Kimi, I think we are done for the night. I know…" He held up one hand to silence her. "But Cinderella didn't have seven daiquiris. That would have changed things."

"Like she would have lost more than her shoe," Faraday hinted gleefully only to receive another light kick in the shin. "Would you cut that out?!" He glowered at his partner.

"I'm calling it," Cooper said. "As DD I am calling it before I have to clean puke out of the vents."

"I would not puke." Faraday insisted.

"You're not riding shotgun," Cooper shot back.

Faraday turned a long-suffering glance to Sierra. He did a very good impression of a wounded puppy when he wanted to. "See what I have to deal with? He's so mean." Sierra rolled her eyes. "Hey, how about I stay with you?" he requested suddenly. "It would be kind of mean to make Cooper drive through my neighbourhood at night."

"I'll be fine as long as you dive out, tuck and roll while the car is still moving," Cooper jested.

Nervous for Cooper and also wanting to keep Faraday around, Sierra shook her head. "He can stay with me."

"You sure?" Cooper asked. "He can be pretty whiny if he gets sick."

"We already established that I'm not getting sick," Faraday growled in response. He looked around and only then noticed the absence of two. "Hey, where did Mike and Angela go?"

"They left," Kimi told him.

"When?"

"About the time you started complaining about Ry."

"I didn't complain about rye," Faraday replied, misunderstanding. Kimi giggled and pointed her thumb in Cooper's direction. "Oh, Ryan. Got it."

"Let's clear our tabs and get home," Cooper ordered. "I have a daughter who will only sleep until seven, if I'm lucky."

"Aw, do you need your beauty sleep?" Faraday questioned only to receive a third kick to the shin. "Piss off! I'm going to bruise."

"Aw, princess, you're going to bruise," Cooper replied nasally.

The two remaining women rolled their eyes at the playful banter between the partners as their night drew closer to a close.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0051 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

The warmth of her laughter made the loft apartment feel complete. Renko had adopted the place as a sanctuary of sorts. She continued to renovate and make the place her home. Despite the fact that he had his own apartment, pieces of him were also evident there- the bag of coffee beans on the counter, the extra toothbrush in the bathroom, that one sock that always missed the hamper in the guest bedroom.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as they stumbled through the kitchen. He found the taste of the red wine still lingered on her tongue. Desire overruled logic, or perhaps that eleventh drink did. Her backless dress had tortured him all night, the black beading like an outline to her fair skin that always felt so unattainable. Powerless to hold back any longer, he slowly ran his hand down her spine, feeling each vertebra. She gasped and her back arched in an elegant display. In all his life, he couldn't remember wanting anything as badly as he wanted her in that moment.

Two more steps and her back ended up against the refrigerator. She let out a quick breath of surprise and pressed her body tighter to his. "That's cold," she gasped.

He pulled her away from the cold metal and redirected them toward the bedrooms. "I'll warm you up," he muttered against her neck as he nuzzled there, finding the scent of her intoxicating. She hummed her approval, a hand threading through his hair as her head tipped back just slightly. Out of habit, he led them into the guest room where he usually stayed and flicked on the light. Hunger still unsated, his lips reclaimed hers, fingertips played with the hem of the open back dress.

He backed her up against the dresser and lifted her to sit upon it, effectively putting an end to their height difference. Her hands ran down his chest and wasted no time grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. She bit down on her bottom lip but could not rein in her pleased smile. To place them on even ground, his fingers slipped under the neck of her dress around her shoulders and slowly exposed her skin. There would be no going back. And he froze.

This was their moment, a moment of desire, of lust, a moment that would change everything. If they continued, they'd never return to the easy, safe friendship they shared, he understood that. Unaware of his internal debate, Angela's nails lightly raked down his chest while her lips brushed against his neck. "Angela," her name slipped from his lips. The name, a lie, gnawed on him. He could become lost in it- the frenzy of need, the desire to touch; the intensity of his want nearly too much to turn away from, but he couldn't help the thought that this isn't how it's supposed to be.

Her hands started to make work of his belt but he quickly grabbed her wrists. She became still and stared at him, a smile still on her face. The drinks weren't helping him to collect his thoughts or rein in his feelings. "We need to stop," he muttered, but it might as well have been yelled as tense silence fell between them.

He released her and took a step back in a desperate need for space. Sitting on the dresser, she stared at him in confusion. "Michael?"

His heart hammered in his chest, his mouth became dry and his hands shook. "What are we doing?"

"I thought that was pretty clear," Angela responded slowly, her eyes narrowing as her mind tried to process his sudden change in mood.

"We can't do this," he whispered, unable to keep his breathing even as he felt his own heart shattering. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it back on. "I don't even know your first name. Your real one," he clarified.

Angela huffed out an angry breath and slid off the dresser. She yanked up the arms of the dress and secured them around the curve of her shoulders. "My real name doesn't matter anymore," she growled at him. "It's Angela now."

"I know nothing about you before NCIS," he said, thinking out loud. It would hurt them, he knew, but he couldn't have his real life being infected by the same lies he inhabited in his working life. "Or before you were a part of Black Ops."

"It's not like you've been an open book either," she accused. Her eyes became hard, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "The past is the past."

"Says the woman who lives in hers." He grimaced, instantly regretting the words.

The room felt as if the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. "Get out," she whispered, low and angry.

He took a step forward, extended a hand in a desperate need to mend the bridge between them. "An-"

"Get out!" she screamed. "Get out! Get out!" She shoved him hard once, twice, three times, out the bedroom door and into the hall. "Get out!" she screamed again, pointing at the door.

"Please-" His plea fell upon deaf ears as she continued screaming at him. He saw the tears in her eyes. It hurt to know he had put them there. "Angela-" He heard an ominous growl at his side as Sugar passed him only to turn to face him, standing protectively between him and her master.

"That's not my name," she whispered contemptuously. "Now get the hell out of my home."

He didn't have a choice but to leave, not when she demanded it. Sugar stalked him the entire way out, growling menacingly and even occasionally snapping her jaw at him. He opened the door to look back at her. "We aren't over." A small sob escaped her lips. The dog barked at him and he left.


	50. Renko's Team Night pt4

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0101 HRS: NIIGATA RESIDENCE**

Kimi fumbled with her keys. Although it might be the alcohol talking, she would swear she could feel the intensity of Cooper's stare. "Tonight was a lot of fun," she said as she finally got the key in the lock. "We should do it more often." She looked up at him. "You're a very good dancer." He didn't reply; he simply continued staring. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and slightly shifted her stance.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Sorry. Did you say something?"

She smiled, just a little. "You must be tired."

"No, well a little. I was just… thinking," he admitted lamely.

She read into the stare, the absentmindedness that was so out of character for him. The drunkenness emboldened her. She ran a finger down the lapel of his sports jacket. "Would you like to come in?"

"No."

The response, so immediate, so certain, left her crestfallen and then embarrassed. "Oh, okay." Desperate to escape, she turned around and opened the door. "I'll see you at work on Wednesday."

His hand grabbed her shoulder, but he didn't force her to turn around. He stood so close that she could feel the heat of his body. The moment of stillness, of silence, left her on edge. "Be patient," he whispered. "I'll figure this out." His hot breath against her neck sent a shiver down her spine. "I'll figure it out," he repeated, a promise.

"I don't understand," she complained. "What's there to figure out? Either you want me or you don't. I get that we work together, but stop pretending that you care if you don't." She whirled around on him. "I'm a big girl; I can take it."

The words were hardly finished being spoken before his lips crashed down upon hers. She no longer had any doubts about his feelings for her, not when she felt such desperation in his touch, tasted the need upon his lips. "Don't ever doubt that I want you," he muttered against her lips. They shared one last slow burning kiss before he pulled away.

She gazed up at the openly-adoring face of Cooper. She blamed his eyes- those soulful, dark eyes that made her heart skip a beat. "Ryan?"

"Go inside, Kimi," he said, taking a step back. "Don't forget to lock your doors."

Confused, drunk, and aroused, Kimi managed to nod. She opened the door and stepped inside. Of course, she looked back at him. It would take a stronger woman than she to resist. He offered her a small smile. "Good night," she said breathily before shutting the door and turning the lock.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0117 HRS: SICOTTI RESIDENCE**

Sierra expected him to put up a fight when she suggested they share her bed. She had her arguments all lined up. Like Faraday, she liked to win. However, he hadn't argued.

He still had a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt there from the last time he'd crashed at her place. She'd washed and folded them. Usually she didn't do his laundry, and it would be a point of playful banter between the two the next time. She would demand he do his own laundry and he would insist he was trying to teach her to be a good housewife, which would only lead into further and often unconnected banter. If he noticed the change from the norm, he didn't mention it and she felt relieved. She'd worn his shirt to bed one night, a guilty pleasure. Afraid that he would notice the scent of her on it she'd washed it. Twice. Just to be sure.

By the time she finished up in the bathroom and walked into her bedroom in her new baby blue pajama set, she found him already asleep. He appeared peaceful as he slept on his stomach with one arm dangling off the bed.

She turned her sidelight to its lowest setting, as she did every night, before she crawled under the sheets and lay on her side. Faraday snored quietly, and she figured she would razz him about it in the morning. After the long day of work and extended hours of playtime, her eyes felt heavy and she slowly slipped into a peaceful sleep.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0159 HRS: COOPER RESIDENCE**

Exhaustion warred with excitement. Cooper's eyes felt heavy as he parked the van in his driveway. He would have to return it to OSP in the morning and retrieve his own vehicle. He'd thought about doing it all tonight, to give him something productive to do while he thought about those last moments with Kimi, but the garage would be closed. Unlike the agents, their mechanics didn't work around the clock. There would be no one for intake of the NCIS vehicle. The chore would have to wait and be an inconvenience later in the morning.

The house was dark and quiet when he entered, exactly as it should be. He shut and locked the door before removing his shoes. The sound of a creaking door got his attention. He figured Emma had been listening for him as she so often did, but, when the light turned on, he instead found his mother wrapped up in a plush pink robe. "Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. Pleasure always came with a bit of guilt. Being a single father he felt that when he wasn't at work he should be with his child. "Thank you for watching Emma."

"It is no chore to watch my granddaughter," Margaret replied. "Besides, you need some time, too, Son; otherwise, you'll just end up burnt out."

He shrugged. "You, too. You're with her whenever I'm not, and I'm at work a lot." The thought had plagued him for months, years even. "This arrangement was never supposed to be permanent." It was a blessing to have his mother there for him, to have moved in when Celeste died, when he struggled with grief and fatherhood. It felt better to have his mother taking care of his daughter than having to send her to a stranger while he worked.

"She will be in full-time kindergarten soon," Margaret replied. Both were testing the waters, clearing the air on the subject. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Is this a conversation you want to have now?"

If he said yes, she would sit down with him, he knew that. "No," he replied, not quite ready for the change. "But you have your own life, and I'm okay now, Mom."

She looked at him then, stared like she could see into his soul. She sighed and crossed the room to embrace her youngest child. "I know you are. You have been for a while. That girl, the one you had at Emma's birthday, she's part of the healing, isn't she?" He nodded, and she smiled. "Have you figured out what you're going to do with that?" She scoffed at the questioning look on his face. "I'm your mother. I know you'll work all the angles until you get everyone positioned just so. That's why you're bringing up our arrangement now. You'll figure out the best way to present the idea of a new woman to Emma. And you'll fish for a while to find out how Kimi feels about your daughter and if it's a right fit. It will take time, but you've already been thinking about all that, haven't you?"

He shrugged with a grin. "Maybe a little."

She scoffed. "A little," she repeated with a roll of her eyes. "Changes are coming, but it's two in the morning and those changes can be dealt with later. Get to bed."

He kissed her cheek. "Yes, Mother."

He knew his mother was right. Things between him and Kimi were changing. Heated glances and excuses to brush up against the other were becoming more frequent. On her doorstep neither left any doubt about where their hearts were on the subject. He had a child he had to put first and, while that stalled things, it wouldn't stop them. He felt they were absolutely inevitable.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0304 HRS: SICOTTI RESIDENCE**

Sierra woke in a daze. She usually either woke because of her alarm clock or because of a nightmare; this time neither was the cause. A graze of a heel against her leg reminded her that she didn't sleep in the bed alone. She rolled over and yawned. "Noah?" He tossed and turned, coated in a sheen of sweat. His lips moved but no sound followed. His hand twitched and his head turned. His obvious distress made her chest feel tight; she struggled to keep her breathing even.

She had learnt before that Faraday didn't always wake up so well. Playing it safe, she climbed out of bed and grabbed hold of her pillow. "I'm sorry about this," she whispered before slamming the pillow down on his side. His body curled slightly but he didn't wake. "Noah!" she shouted a few times, trying to wake him with no success.

A near overwhelming fear rocked her. The feeling of uselessness gnawed on her soul. He had done so much for her over the years, been her rock, her sanity, and now she couldn't even wake him from a nightmare. And she knew nightmares. From the way he thrashed, the sweat, the kind of panic on his face that she'd never seen there before, she knew whatever his subconscious had whipped up hurt him. More than anything, she wanted to end that pain.

She knelt down on the bed and kept the pillow between them as she rocked him forcibly while calling his name. When that didn't work, she hit him with it once more. He whimpered. The small sound cut through her and put tears in her eyes.

"Noah, it's okay; I'm here." Her hand trembled as she reached out. When her fingertips touched his temple, his entire body tensed. Desperate to provide him with some form of comfort, she ran her hand over his short-cropped hair, whispering whatever reassurances came to mind. To her relief his body visibly relaxed and a moment later his breathing evened back out to a normal rhythm. She watched him for a few minutes, half expecting the nightmare to return. When nothing happened she lay back down but put her hand over his. Despite wanting to be vigilant with her watch, exhaustion pulled her back under.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0310 HRS: MERCER RESIDENCE**

When wounded, scared or sad, Angela far preferred to transfer it all into anger. Anger felt stronger, safer. This time she'd only managed a brief spark of it, enough to get Renko out of her apartment, before she'd succumbed to the sadness and heartache. Maybe she needed it- the good, long, therapeutic cry. She lay on the bed in the guest room where his presence still lingered. Sugar sat on the floor but rested her chin on the bed and stared worriedly at Angela.

She had sobered enough to dissect the events but remained drunk enough to mope about it. "I thought things were going well," she confessed to Sugar. The golden retriever's large brown eyes stared at her. "I felt it, right here." Her hand rested over her heart. "Felt like my heart would burst. That man kisses like he took a damn master class." Rolling onto her side, she reached out and scratched behind Sugar's ears. "And then he left. You know the worst part?" Her voice broke. She waited a minute till she had her emotions back under control. "He's right. On all accounts. He was right to take a step back, and he was right to call me on one of my numerous flaws." She ran a fingertip along her bottom lip. "But I'll get over the sting of that because he was right about one more thing. We aren't over."

Rolling off the bed, Angela sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around Sugar. The dog's tail thumped happily on the floor. "So, what do I do now? I can't just tell him everything. I mean I could, but it would ruin things anyway." Her head tipped back and rested against the bed. "He won't look at me the same if he finds out who I am. It'll change things. He won't look at me the same." A sigh escaped her lips. "I like the way he looks at me, the way he sees me. Not who I was. Not who I'm expected to be." Her hand ran through Sugar's fur. "What do I do now, huh?"

Sugar barked and licked her face twice. "Ah! Sugar! Off! Off!" Angela laughed. "Is that your way of telling me I should just kiss him again? As much as I like the idea, we need to work on a better strategy. Although, I admit, that has potential." She stood and walked into the kitchen, the room leaving her unsettled. The colour of the cabinets. She decided she didn't like it anymore. "I'm not repainting them." She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. "I'm not."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0315 HRS: RENKO RESIDENCE**

Being an agent for as long as he had, he knew how to brush off failure, live with consequences, and deal with his emotions. Instead of being able to deal with the repercussions of his actions, Michael Renko lay in bed, wide-awake. He had taken a taxi from Angela's to his own apartment, the entire sorry scene replaying in his mind the entire ride. By the time he'd returned home he'd come up with a dozen different ways he could have handled it better. He wished he had been more careful with Angela, not just careful but smarter, too.

Giving up on sleep for the time being, he walked out to his living room and took up lounging on the couch instead. The television remote was nowhere in sight, and he didn't have the energy to put up much of a search. A loose spring poked him in the butt, and he shifted away from it. He remembered sitting there, eating pizza with Matt right before he'd gotten the agent needs assistance call on his phone when Angela had been shot. He knew damn well the risks of the job and didn't like the idea that he might have messed up something he wouldn't get another chance at.

He missed her. Stupid, considering the fact that he had spent most of the night with her but he did. He missed her laugh and the sly smile that escaped when she really wanted to keep her expression stony. He missed being able to catch the scent of her shampoo when she passed by. He missed the silent company or playful banter- whichever suited their moods.

He missed the loft. It had so much potential and, on her own, she'd pulled it together, created something homey. Since his house burnt to the ground he hadn't tried to rebuild. For heaven's sake, his 'coffee table' consisted of a plank of plywood propped up on a couple of cinderblocks. He missed the security, not just for himself, but knowing that if anything happened, they'd handle it together.

What had happened, happened. No point in thinking it to death. Instead, more productively, he sat up, wide-awake, as he tried to figure out how he could make it better.


	51. Reliable

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0555 HRS: BEALE/SHAW RESIDENCE**

The sudden, violent movement woke Eric. Confused, he looked around just in time to see Bethany bolt out the door. A few seconds later he heard her retching in the bathroom. 'Totally natural'- that had been the doctor's words. It didn't make him feel any better. He hated to see her sick morning after morning.

He shuffled into the kitchen, not quite awake, and made a pot of ginger tea, which Hetty had recommended. He took a sniff of the stuff and wrinkled his nose. At least he didn't have to drink it.

"Sorry." Bethany's soft voice floated across the room. "I woke you, didn't I?"

He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. "I don't mind. I made you tea."

Her smile blossomed. "You made me tea." Gratitude and hormones had her eyes watering. "That's so sweet."

"It's just tea."

"It's a nice gesture," she insisted, walking over. She took a sniff of the stuff and wrinkled her nose. "What is this?"

"Ginger tea. I hear that it helps with morning sickness."

"I'd drink just about anything right now if it would help with this morning sickness," she admitted. She took a testing sip of the tea and pressed her lips together. "Well, it isn't terrible."

"That's the spirit," he replied with a grin. In return, she rolled her eyes. Deciding to get a glass of juice for himself he went to the fridge, only to end up staring at the ultrasound held up with a magnet. Their child. In a matter of months he would be a father. A father! Excitement and fear always came in equal measure.

Bethany walked behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder; she, too, looking at the ultrasound picture of their unborn child. Due to the angle, they still didn't know if they would have a son or a daughter. "What names do you like?" she asked dreamily.

He shrugged. "Never gave it much thought."

"Come on," Bethany insisted. "You must have given it some thought since finding out."

"A little.

Her arms wrapped around his waist and she nuzzled against his neck. "So, names?"

"I kind of like Luke."

She giggled. "If we go with that, you're not giving him the middle name Skywalker!"

He laughed and shook his head. "I wouldn't!"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't be tempted."

He held his finger and thumb an inch apart. "Only a little."

"What about for a girl? What name would you like for a daughter?"

"What about Zelda?" She nipped his neck and he laughed. "I'll take that as a no."

"It's a no way in heck!"

"Alright, what are your choices?"

She ran her finger over her lips as she deliberated. "Lincoln for a boy. Lauren for a girl. Yes, I know if we named our son Lincoln, you'd just shorten it to Linc by the end of the day."

"And you have a problem with Zelda?!"

She sighed dramatically. "Zelda Beale," she said. "Zelda Beale, Eric! Let that horribleness just sink in. You're cruel and unusual. Make me breakfast!"

He burst out laughing and pulled her close. "I love you so much!"

She giggled and hugged him tight. "I love you, too, Eric."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0902 HRS: SICOTTI RESIDENCE**

Sierra pulled the blanket back up over her shoulder in a brief moment of wakefulness. The scent of bacon piqued her curiosity. She raised her head off the pillow and glanced over her shoulder to find Faraday walking in, two plates balanced on his arm, a glass of orange juice in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. "Good, you're up," he said, walking over to her side of the bed. "Grab the top plate and the juice."

She did just that and stared at the hearty breakfast of sunny-side up eggs, crispy strips of bacon and a couple slices of toast. "You made me breakfast," shocked words escaping her lips.

"I don't live off take-out you know," he replied with a laugh. "I looked around for a tray but didn't find anything that fit the bill, so you're stuck with a plate. If we get crumbs in your bed, just remember I had the best of intentions." He carefully sat down, facing her, managing to cross his legs without spilling his food or the coffee.

A warmth came over her and she smiled at him. Never in her life had she eaten breakfast in bed. It made her feel very special to have someone cook for her like this. "Thank you."

He shrugged it off. "We both have to eat, and you did have me over last night when I was drunk. This is my thank you, I guess. Also, you're out of pretty much everything. We should go grocery shopping."

She laughed and shook her head before she stabbed the yolk with her toast. Having him go through her kitchen didn't bother her like she thought it would. Her job made her not just security conscious but very private. Yet the fact that he treated the place like his own made her happy. Her eyes drifted enviously to the mug of coffee. "There isn't anymore, is there?"

"No, and, before you ask why I was so ungracious, me drinking this is actually a favour to you." He took a bite of the bacon and had the joy of seeing her expression change from confusion to annoyance.

"How so?"

"I'm insufferable without coffee," he replied before taking a large mouthful of the drink. "That, and all you had left were a couple spoonfuls of instant, which to you would be like drinking plain hot water."

She rolled her eyes. "I do not make my coffee that strong!"

"You do so!"

"Do not," she muttered. He grinned and continued to eat his breakfast. "Noah, do you remember what you dreamt about last night?"

Faraday looked up from his meal to find her staring at him. "What I dreamt about?"

"Yeah, do you remember?"

He shook his head, his expression neutral. "Why?"

She hated that he gave nothing away. Maybe he really didn't remember. Green eyes narrowed; she wondered if the guarded curiosity meant that he remembered more than he cared to admit. "You had a nightmare," she said slowly, her eyes never straying from his face. "Seemed to me like it was a bad one and I couldn't wake you up. The best I could do was calm you down."

Curiosity won out. "How did you manage that?"

Heat flushed her cheeks. "I just, I kind of, it's really not important."

A big smile split his face. "Oh, this must be good. Come on, what did you do?"

"I just kind of ran my hand over your hair."

"You pet me," he chuckled. When she looked away, he felt guilty. "Hey." He quickly grabbed her hand; she instinctively jerked away. "Sorry. I just-"

Inhaling deeply, she held up her hand and looked at his. "Come on." Inquisitively, he stared at her but lined his hand up with hers, the heels of their palms touching first as they merged up to their fingertips, Faraday's curving over her smaller hand. She stared at their hands, thankful that the panic stayed at bay. "I'm trying."

"I know you are," he replied. "I woke up with your hand over mine. I had a twenty minute debate about crawling out of bed to make breakfast just because I didn't want to slip away." He took a deep breath. "With the job it seems that the occasional nightmare is only natural. I'm sorry that you were here when it happened, but thank you for calming me down."

She nodded. "You're welcome." They returned to eating their breakfasts. She had nearly cleared her plate before she spoke again. "You've helped me so much, Noah. You know, if something is bothering you that you can talk to me, right?"

He smiled. "Of course. Don't worry about a little bad dream. Especially one I can't even remember. I mean, I could have been having a dream where Kensi was driving." Sierra laughed and he smiled. "It's not funny. Kensi's driving is legendary for making men puke."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his plate. "You cooked, I'll clean."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 0950 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"We must find THE dress!" Chloe obsessed over bridal magazines at the kitchen table. She wanted the absolute best for her big sister.

"Shh." Steven waved a hand at her. "It's too early for this."

The baby had kicked up a storm during the early morning and had dragged Chloe out of bed far earlier than normal. She glanced at the clock on the wall and rolled her eyes. "It's nearly ten!"

"Early," he repeated while he watched the coffee drip, drop by drop, into the pot. "Nelly-Belly, you need a new coffee machine. I know I set the timer last night."

"G has a habit of taking appliances apart. Sometimes they don't get back together quite right. I'll have him take a look at it." Nell continued to stir batter while her mother flipped the first batch of pancakes for a late breakfast since everyone but Callen and Chloe had slept in. Callen had gone to testify in Matt Bernhart's case- claiming to her family a business meeting that couldn't be avoided. Anxious for news she tried to focus on her family, enjoying their visit while it lasted. They'd be flying home in the next few days, which saddened her. The noise, the chaos, the big dinners and having the house full of loved ones. She would miss it all greatly even if it did come with plenty of work.

"You should reconsider who you've decided to marry then," Christian declared upon walking into the kitchen. "A man who dares mess with the coffee machine is a twisted fellow."

"Is that so?" Nell shot him an inquiring look.

"It is. Is that pancakes?" Christian shuffled over and looked over Nell and Susan's shoulders. "Are there going to be more? Is there syrup? Is there jam?"

"I hope you're going to pick one or the other." Steven shot him a disturbed glance.

"Blackberry jam and maple syrup are amazing," Christian managed to say with a straight face while Steven looked disgusted. Susan rotated her wrist and held it. She'd injured it long ago and occasionally it flared up with pain. "Here." Christian held out his hand, knowing the warning signs. "Let me flip. I'm an awesome flipper."

"Don't let him, Mom," Steven cut in. "He's just trying to get out of dishes by helping with the cooking."

"Thank you, Chris." Susan passed off the spatula. She then turned to Steven. "Looks like you're alone for dish duty."

Steven looked at the mess Nell had made with the bowls and sighed. "Great."

The knock at the door had Nell pausing and noticing just how much of a mess of herself she'd made. Batter on her hands, flour on her sleep shirt. "Don't worry," Susan said, patting her daughter's shoulder as she passed. "I'll get the door."

Susan walked through the sparsely decorated interior and looked between the blinds. "It's Angela!" she called out to inform Nell of her visitor before she opened the door. "Hello, Angela. It's nice to see you again. Please come in."

"Thanks. I'd love to but I can't," Angela said quickly, passing a bouquet of flowers, a letter and a business card to Susan. "I'm late. The note explains everything. I don't have time for more detail." Nell stepped up behind her mother and looked at the flowers curiously. "Note explains," Angela insisted and then grabbed Nell's hand and put her card in it. "Consider it my wedding gift to you two."

Nell looked at the credit card, the kind that came with really high-end covers and unlimited budgets. "Ange, I can't!" But when she looked up the other woman was already back at her white Cadillac CTS Coupe. Tapping the card against her hand, she stepped back into the house and shut the door. "Well. Let's see that letter."

"That was rather odd." Susan said as she passed the letter and business card to Nell and gently put the flowers down on the little table beside the key bowl.

Running her thumb over the embossed lettering on the business card, Nell took a deep breath. THE ONE was written on it. That particular store specialized in custom gowns. 'Custom' goes hand in hand with the word costly. The name Evelyn Ford stood out. "Owner and designer," Nell murmured. She took the letter her mother held out.

_Nell,_

_Flowers are for Evelyn. Long story. If asked, just tell her you're fishing for points._

_No appointment. She has a lunch break at two. Go then. Give her the flowers. Trust me._

_Use my card. Consider it my wedding gift. Don't worry about the cost. Seriously, I'm a trust fund baby. Don't think you going crazy on it will affect me._

_Since you can't find your dream dress, have Eve make it. She's a genius._

"Well," Nell muttered. "Looks like I'm getting a custom gown."

 


	52. Me With You

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1029 HRS: COURTHOUSE**

Since she was punctual by nature, being late set Angela on edge. Already nervous, her system didn't need the jolt of apprehension when she looked at the digital clock in her dashboard. She didn't actually have to be anywhere; she'd made no promises. There wouldn't be anyone expecting her. This need came from within, an inability to let something so great slip through her fingers. After all, she'd let plenty slip through before.

Sleep had evaded her during the night, and the hangover stuck around all morning despite the numerous glasses of water she'd consumed. The hours had stripped the alcohol from her system but didn't leave her with a clear head. At least, not on the most important topic. Her grip on the steering wheel made her knuckles go white, and she struggled to loosen her hold. She still had no idea what to do about her situation with Renko. It hurt to love someone so deeply, but the thought of losing him hurt so much more. This thinking brought her to the courthouse, had her paying for parking on the street and walking down the sidewalk while wringing her hands.

When she saw him, she froze and watched. Renko sat on one of the benches in a professionally tailored suit, a rarity she found herself uncertain about. She felt at odds with it, especially since his hair had yet to grow out from a recent undercover. He looked so… un-Renko. In his hands, he held the daily paper but she couldn't tell if he was actually reading it or just staring at it. She took a deep breath, forced herself to stop wringing her hands and took the first step toward him.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1035 HRS: COURTHOUSE**

Waiting tested his patience. It felt as though every minute took up an hour. He read the newspaper as a distraction, a way to kill time. He'd read about a political scandal, a shooting on the west side, stats and news about his favourite football team, a couple of opinion pieces and now sunk his teeth into an article about Wellington Weaponry, who consistently changed the face of modern warfare for US troops. Exactly the kind of article that a man in the industry could get into. Much better than 'Politician gets caught with a prostitute'.

So into the article, he didn't hear her approach and ended up startled when she cleared her throat. Coming back to himself, he looked up and folded the paper. "Ange." Shock settled in first. He hadn't expected her to come, especially after the night before. Her eyes were wary, and her hands fiddled with the St. Michael's pendant on her necklace. It warmed him to know he hadn't been the only one to dress up just to wait for the verdict. The gunmetal pantsuit suited her and complimented her long legs and trim figure. The white lace camisole that peeked out softened the look just slightly. His shock faded and desperation to get them back on equal footing edged its way to the forefront. He set the paper aside when he stood. "Hey." That was the best opener he could manage. A hint of embarrassment settled in.

"Hey. Any news?"

"No. Nothing yet," he replied. He smoothed his hand down the tie he'd borrowed out of OSP wardrobe. He had a tie of his own, surely he did. He just didn't know where- or perhaps, if he had ever replaced such a thing after the fire.

Angela shifted her weight and continued to pull the pendant to one side and then the other. "Right."

"About yesterday-"

"I'm sorry-" they both blurted out and shocked one another into momentary silence.

Angela recovered first. "You were right."

"It doesn't mean I don't care about you," he insisted. He needed her to know that.

She nodded. "I know."

"What now?" he asked softly. He didn't want to ask. Didn't know if he could stand the answer, especially while waiting to find out the fate of his best friend.

She bit her lower lip and gave the slightest shrug of her shoulders. "That, I don't know." He nodded; after all, he didn't have a better answer. "Are we okay?" She sounded timid and he couldn't recall ever hearing her sound so close to pleading.

"Yeah, Ange. We're okay." For now. So long as neither rocked their careful balance. Finally, she released her grip on her necklace and the two of them sat together to wait.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1100 HRS: GOLD LEAF CAFE**

"Uncle! Uncle!" Deeks cried, out on the street, and Kensi released his hand with a laugh. "You're cruel."

"You didn't just check her out; you turned all the way around to watch her jog by!"

"I was looking at a car!"

"Nice try," Kensi replied, giving him a good punch to the arm before she walked into the little café where they were meeting with Jax for lunch. She felt Deeks behind her as they scoped out the place and a second later his hand had come to rest on her hip, a few fingers slipping into a belt loop. "This place is busy. See him?"

Deeks chuckled and subtly pointed. "Getting hit on by the waitress."

"How do you know he's not the one hitting on her?" Kensi inquired.

"Because, for some reason, women just flock to him like flies. Neither Ray, Evan nor I could ever figure it out. The same thing happens with Delaney, too, but we could all come up with a list of reasons for her."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Jax is good looking. Of course he's going to attract female attention, and you and your straight friends couldn't figure that one out."

"Clearly I'm better looking though, right? Right?" he repeated as she started to walk toward the table. "Sugarbear!"

"Hey, are we late?" Kensi inquired as she walked around the table and sat beside Jax. She sensed the immediate jealousy of the waitress.

"Not at all, gorgeous," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Can I get a coffee?" she inquired to the waitress.

"Double that order down, please," Deeks requested.

When the waitress left, Jax removed his arm. "I got here early. Never again."

Deeks laughed. "Seriously, can you go anywhere without getting hit on?" His friend ignored the question and gave serious study to the menu. "Have you heard from Laney?"

"She's in New York, safe and sound." It didn't surprise Deeks that Jax didn't go into detail. He'd always been respectful of his twin sister's privacy.

"Any word on when she'll be back in LA?"

"Nope."

"How is the business going?" Kensi asked while she debated over a late breakfast or an early lunch.

"Great. They've started construction. I might actually have an office in a couple months, which will be nice because my condo has become a disaster of work and life. I need to start hiring. I have a couple of portfolios already."

"Uh oh," Deeks muttered hearing the dread in his friend's voice. "You being hard on prospective employees again?"

"I don't hire anything less than talented and inspired. I'm not hard on them-"

"You just demand perfection," Deeks cut in with a grin.

"I expect it from myself; I won't tolerate less from employees."

"Slave driver," Deeks muttered as the waitress returned with their coffees and topped off Jax's.

The three ordered their meals and continued running through conversation that drifted from fast cars, to new movie releases, to complaints of 'kids these days,' which made them all feel incredibly old for a moment. While they chatted, Kensi felt Deeks's foot rub the side of her leg, and she tried to keep a straight face. She enjoyed the easy intimacy of their relationship that went hand in hand with the playful friendship they always exuded to their friends. She liked going out with him and doing simple things like grocery shopping, or a coffee run, or going out to brunch and getting to really know his friends. It made her feel as though their lives were merging, a thought that used to scare her but now made her feel very secure, cemented in their relationship. She laughed at a joke that Deeks told and found that her hand ended up in his.

"So, when are you going to put a ring on this gorgeous creature?" Jax asked Deeks. "Because any other male in his right mind would be jumping all over that."

Another thing that used to cause fear, a signal of marriage, of permanence. Oddly, now it only caused a small smile and even a little flutter of excitement.

"One of these days," Deeks replied.

_Good answer._

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1209 HRS: COURTHOUSE**

Instinct had Renko grabbing Angela's hand and squeezing it. "There's Ava," he murmured under his breath. The youthful police officer had dressed in her official blues for testimony. He watched as she raised her hand to block the sun from her eyes while she searched the immediate area. He stood, and her eyes locked on to him. She raised her hand and waved with an exuberant smile on her face before she headed over.

"She looks happy," Angela said, thinking nothing of Renko's grip on her hand.

Excitement electrified the air. "Yeah, she does," Renko agreed. For the first time since Matt had been locked up, he felt like he could breathe again. He turned to find an incredibly surprised and yet pleased smile on Angela's face and, in that instant, he had the near overwhelming urge to kiss her, to celebrate the joy with her. Instead, he returned his attention to Ava, who jogged over.

"He's being released. It was amazing. So many officers from the precinct showed up in support and offered their personal perspective on the case. I don't know about his job, if he can ever get it back, but he's going to be a free man." She pushed her hands through her short, platinum blonde hair and blew out a breath. Her thumb ran along her bottom lip, and she huffed out yet another breath. "I think you should know, though… Because of his and Harrison's tampering with evidence, the man they put away, that human trafficker, will also be released." The words hit him like a fist to the gut, air evacuating his lungs.

"What!?" Angela's outrage had her reacting before Renko could even get his head around it.

"And he can't be tried for the same crime twice," the young officer continued. "So, Matt is free… and so is the man he put away."

Renko tried to get his thoughts in order but they scattered once again when he saw Matt walking toward him. He left the girls and met him half way. The two men, as close as brothers, hugged. "Hell of a lawyer your buddy Deeks found," Matt muttered before pulling out of the embrace. "I owe him beer for life for this. Steak. Let's get steak. I'm dying here."

"Yeah, sure," Renko said, his mind still reeling. "Whatever you want, man."


	53. We'll Be Okay

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1304 HRS: SANTA MONICA BEACH**

"Let go, Dad!" Zoe insisted. "I can do it! I can do it!" Keeping close, Sam removed his hand. Zoe could indeed swim. She let out an excited laugh and continued splashing as she kicked while doggy paddling. "This is great! I'm doing it! Are you looking, Dad? See? See?"

"I see," he replied. He stood in the water, still able to touch the sandy bottom. Tracking his daughter, he watched as she swam circles around him with a big smile on her face. Pride swelled within his heart. It hit him at times like this that his little girl was growing up. He kept her in his peripheral vision as he looked to the shoreline. Zachary and Michelle made a pretty picture, sitting on the sand in their swim gear, little shovels and pails around them as they collaborated on a sand castle. Zoe swam by, water splashing him in the face as she kicked. "Zo! Keep your feet down. No need to kick like that!"

"Is so. I don't wanna sink!" She swam one more lap before she swam up to him and grabbed his arm. "I'm tired!"

"Well, let's go in. I saw a bag of chips with our names on it."

"Really?!" She let out an excited cheer. "What kind?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Dill pickle."

"Yes! Best day ever!"

"Come on, let's swim in. You got enough energy?"

"You said Dill Pickle, right?"

He laughed. "Smart aleck. Race you."

"Three, two, one," she said quickly while having already pushed off him and started to swim. "Go!"

"Cheater!" He called after her with a grin. "Where did you learn that?" he asked, letting her get a good head start before he started after her.

"Uncle G," she shouted gleefully as she got to shallow water.

"Should have known," Sam muttered to himself.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1305 HRS: BLYE RESIDENCE**

The sudden shrill shriek caused Deeks to sit fully upright. "Kens?"

"Oh, my God!" She moonwalked back into the living room and shot him a gorgeous smile. "Just got a text from Nell. We are going to The One!"

He stared at her for a moment. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

The smile dropped away and her dark eyes narrowed. "Men!"

"Woah, it's a strip joint?"

Laughter burst out even when she wanted to keep a straight face. "No! It's a bridal shop! I'm going dress shopping with Nell." She looked down at her outfit, then at the watch on her wrist. "I have to get changed and go. Help yourself to whatever's around if you're staying."

"Na, gonna catch a surf if you're not hanging around. Maybe pick up fish tacos."

"Vendor tacos?" Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Don't knock 'em, especially when your fridge looks like a twelve-year-old's science project." He stepped back just in time to avoid the punch to the arm. "Text me when you're done. I'll cook dinner."

She eyed him cautiously. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, at my place." He couldn't resist reaching out and running his hand through her hair. "You pick up the wine."

"What kind?"

"White."

"Oo la la, fancy pants."

He laughed and gave her a quick kiss before he was on his way. "See you tonight."

Her fingers brushed over her lips. "Yeah, see you tonight."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1306 HRS: OFFICE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS**

While on his lunch break, Nate called Delaney, who answered on the second ring.

_"Nate. Hey."_

"Hey." He missed her. There were hours that went by without so much as a thought but when he heard her voice he missed her all the more. "Any progress over there?"

 _"I have a property ready for sale. I'm shipping most of my stuff to Jax's place."_ He could hear the grin in her voice that led into sarcasm. _"He will be pleased."_

"Have you been talking to your brother?"

 _"Of course. We're close,"_ she replied. _"I talk to him all the time. We annoy each other, can't live with one another, but we don't go as much as a week without at least an e-mail, usually a call. He's good, excited about his business. I wish I could be there."_

Curiosity won out over tact. "So, what happened with that contract?"

He had the pleasure of hearing her laugh. _"I wondered how long it would take you to bring that back up."_ She let out a sigh and he imagined her falling back onto a couch and staring up at the ceiling. In his mind, she wore something light, easy to pack in- plain white t-shirt and jeans. Basic and yet on her figure she'd still be a knockout. _"It's totally stupid."_

"I doubt that."

 _"Okay, so I went to the building where we'd be doing the shoot. Anton was there with me. He's a former model himself, now a photographer. Anyway, I make pleasantries with the woman who contracted me and get caught up a bit with Anton and things are fine."_ She took a deep breath and he heard her sigh. _"So then this guy comes in. He's one of the heads of the company that ordered the shoot. So, we're all professionals; he's nice enough and wants to stick around for the shoot."_

"But the shoot didn't happen."

 _"Nope. I get dressed in the first outfit- pale pink lacy bra and underwear with a matching garter belt. It's sexy, feminine, soft, and very nice. Whatever, that isn't the point."_ He heard the agitation settle into her voice. _"So I go out and Anton is all singing my praises. Goofball."_ Fondness for just a second before the seething anger. _"But that guy from the company looks me over and-"_

"And?"

 _"The scar,"_ she whispered.

He knows which one she spoke of because he knows her entire body. The man wouldn't have seen the numerous scars on the bottoms of her feet, so there was only one she could be talking about. She had donated part of her liver to her brother when his went into failure. A tiny scar remained but it was hardly noticeable. He doesn't get it. "What about it?"

 _"It seemed to freak the guy out. He didn't want me in the shoot. The woman who contracted me insisted we could hide it with makeup and all pictures from shoots get photo shopped anyway. The scar wouldn't be in the ad but he flat out didn't want me in it. He said some crap. Anton started shooting it back and then threw his arm over me and said 'I quit, bitch, deal with it.'"_ She laughed. _"He's always had a flare for the dramatic."_

"Good friend."

 _"The very best, he left a little while ago. He's been helping me pack,"_ she replied. _"It's nice to have the company here. Used to be that Evan would come through New York every couple months, more frequently if we were feeling friendly to one another." She remained silent for a minute before she spoke again. "I've been going through photo albums. With everything that happened afterward, I guess I didn't really deal with it."_

"It's okay to miss him," he told her, even though he felt awkward that they were talking about her former lover.

_"I've tried saying goodbye, taken the trip down memory lane, laughed and cried. I'm blaming the photo albums but I don't have the heart to shove them all in boxes. You know, I've got a few really great ones of Marty. Remind me to show them to Kensi."_

"I'll try to do that for you," he replied.

 _"I want to come home,"_ she said, her voice full of longing. _"To Los Angeles. I want to come home."_

"I'm sure you'll have your business over there settled soon."

_"Oh, I will. I staged the condo I'm trying to sell. It looks spectacular. Won't take long to get picked up. I'll be home soon."_

"I can't wait."

_"Me either."_

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1308 HRS: RENKO RESIDENCE**

"I really didn't think Ava would be able to finish that steak. She's so goddamn tiny. It's so deceptive," Matt said as he walked into Renko's crappy apartment. He let out a sigh that came from all the way down in his toes. "Seriously, do we need to have a talk? You still don't have a proper coffee table!" He pointed to the offending cinderblock and plywood abomination.

"I haven't really been staying here much," Renko replied while he pulled off the suit jacket and carefully hung it up, wanting to return it to Hetty in perfect condition.

"You've been bunking with your partner," Matt accused with a wicked smile. "She seemed off today. Quick to make excuses to leave before lunch."

"We kinda- well it's just that-"

"You finally mixed business with pleasure. Good for you."

"No, well we started to but-"

"But?" Matt prompted as he sat on the couch, avoiding the loose spring.

Renko pulled off his tie and hung it with the jacket. "I stopped it. We're partners, we're friends, and we're skipping important steps."

"The bed is one of my favourite steps," Matt argued. It felt good to just have an easygoing conversation with his closest friend. Renko's green eyes narrowed and Matt put his hands up. "Figured you were pretty serious about her a while back, so what steps are you missing?"

"The getting to know you-"

"How long have you two been partners? Been years, right?"

A shrug. "Close to two."

"Well, shit, you should know each other by now."

"Neither of us is exactly an open book."

"So, open your damn book and let her in." Matt watched Renko walk around the couch and into the kitchen. Silence. "Mike. Let her in."

Renko returned to the living room with two beers. He passed one to Matt. "If I tell her everything, how does she trust me again?"

"If you don't let her in, how can she really trust you?" Matt shook his head. "Mike, you can't blame yourself for the mistakes you made as a kid."

"Well, my parents sure as hell still can."

"You ever think that her story hurts her just as much as yours does you?"

Renko huffed out an annoyed breath. "So, what do you suggest I do?"

Matt took a long pull off the bottle and settled his eyes on Renko. "I suggest you grow a pair."

Renko couldn't hold back the grin. "Prick."

"Well, if you won't you'll have to hope she does… and that got weird." In a mildly annoyed response, Renko tapped the bottom of his beer bottle on the top of Matt's, causing it to foam. "Damnit!" Matt shouted before his lips sealed off the bottle in an attempt to keep from getting beer on his suit. He promptly flipped the bird in Renko's direction.

The knock on the door drew Renko's attention and, since he hadn't been expecting anyone, he looked through the peephole first. The unexpected surprise of seeing his partner on the other side left him feeling uneasy. They'd made a mess of things, and he didn't quite know what to do about it yet. He pulled the door open and tried to figure out why she'd come. "Hey, Ange."

"Hey."

They both stood in the doorway, staring at one another, neither speaking. "Um, do you want to come in?" Renko finally recovered and took a step back. Angela took a deep breath before she stepped inside.

Matt felt the tension between Renko and Angela, so he stood. "I'm going to hit the shower." He grinned when it didn't look like either had noticed his proclamation. With a shake of his head, he gave the two some privacy.

"So." Renko struggled to find something to say while Angela ran her finger over the television set and grimaced when she saw the dust on her finger. "Yeah, I need to clean."

"You haven't been here in a while," she replied, wiping her hands on her pants, obviously not as worried about her suit as he was his.

"That isn't a question. You know where I end up," he replied. She nodded, fiddled with her St. Michael's pendant and looked anywhere but him. "What is it?"

She wrung her hands. "In my head this went better."

"Something wrong?"

"Of course there is!" she replied. Her grey eyes locked onto his. It shook him to the core to see fear in them. "I thought that if I went to the courthouse we could get our balance back but it's not the same. We can still talk to each other and be around one another, and I have no doubt we can still be great partners, but it feels like there is this canyon between us and I… I know how to cross it." She bit down on her lower lip and shut her eyes. "I'm just not sure you'll be on the other side when I do and that scares me, Michael."

"You pointed out before that you're not the only one who needs some practice at letting someone else in."

"At least I know your name though. Right? I mean you are-"

"Michael Adam Renko, yeah."

"Your middle name is Adam? I didn't know that." Her lips curved in a small smile. "See, you can open up."

"It's just a name," he shrugged.

"Names are important." She took a deep breath. "I like the way you see ME. Not my name, not what's expected of me. You have no assumptions. I'm Ange, just Ange, and I like it." Her hand returned to the pendant. "I already miss how easy things were between us. I just want things to go back to normal."

Unable to take her open vulnerability, he reached out and pulled her close. "We're going to be okay." He had to believe that himself, that somehow they could navigate the job and their pasts and still create some kind of future. And they had to have a future because he couldn't think straight without her anymore.

"I can't even get mad at you for not opening up when I'm unable to take that step and…I'm afraid if I tell you things it will ruin everything," she insisted, her hands balling up in his dress shirt. "And then I came to the realization that if I don't let you in I'm going to lose you anyway."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Eventually, yes, you will. You can't live with a lie." She sniffled and pulled away. Fear sliced through him when he thought she might just be ending it all, that she might walk out the door and he'd never see her again.

"Ange-"

"My name is Evangeline-"

He couldn't help but cut her off right there. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Excuse me?"

"Evangeline? Evangeline! Jesus Christ. I can still honestly call you Ange. That's hardly even a name change. A little more pompous. It suits you."

"Wise ass," she muttered. "Evangeline Victoria Wellington."

It took a minute but it clicked. His mouth gaped slightly as he stared at her. "Wellington."

"Yeah."

"As in Wellington Weaponry?" She nodded and then he mimicked the movement. "Okay." He took a look around his apartment and winced. Wellington. Old money that keeps on making new money. His 'coffee table' embarrassed him. "Wow."

"Don't," she snarled. "Don't do that."

"What?" He returned his attention to her and found tears in her eyes.

"Don't write me off like that!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"You're seeing things differently," she accused. "I'm not just 'from money' in some abstract way anymore. I'm 'Wellington' rich. If you asked me over for dinner, you'd break out the fine china, except I know you don't own any and you'd make a big deal of going out and getting some only to worry over the entire state of the apartme-"

"Okay, that's just offensive." He spoke over her even though he realized a second later that she was right.

"And what about work? You're not going to see me as your partn-"

"Nothing's changed." He grabbed her shoulders and leveled his eyes with hers. "Nothing has changed. You hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you. But which one of us are you trying to convince?"

"Sit." He pointed to the couch. "You can have the cushion with the loose spring."

She smiled through tears. "Really?"

"Yeah." He grinned in return and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "You want a beer?"

"I hate beer."

"Well, it's that or tap water," he replied.

"That'll do."

"Alright." He stalked off to the kitchen only to pause in the doorway and shoot her a warning glance. "You better not take the good cushion when I'm gone." She smiled at him, and he knew deep down that they'd be just fine.

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13: 1330 HRS: CALLEN/JONES RESIDENCE**

"Well, would you look at that?" Steven said when he looked up from the book he was reading. His eyes trailed over Callen. "You clean up nice."

"Thanks," Callen replied. The house being so quiet was an oddity these days; distinctive voices were missing. "Where are the girls?"

"The way I hear it, your friend Angela showed up and gave Nell a handful of stuff and orders to go to The One." At Callen's blank stare, Steven sighed. "It is THE place to go for a dress; they even do custom."

"Custom, the word that strikes fear into a man's heart," Christian said as he came into the living room carrying a mug of coffee, which he raised in greeting. "Fresh pot in the kitchen."

"Great. I'm going to get out of the monkey suit first," Callen replied.

"Shame," Steven muttered.

After a quick change back into his much more comfortable relaxed fit jeans and old grey t-shirt, he headed for the fresh pot of coffee. In the kitchen, Alan sat with one of Nell's scrapbooks. He looked up when Callen entered. "How did your meeting go?"

"Better than expected," Callen answered. He poured himself a mug and added a teaspoon of sugar. He turned around and leaned over the island to get a good look at the pictures his future father-in-law was looking at. The photographs were from Nell's childhood- one of the birthdays but he couldn't tell whose. The twins, Logan and Lukas, were shown in matching Star Wars shirts. Riley and Steven were photographed devouring their cake next to a large 'happy birthday' banner tacked to the wall. Susan, Chase, Chloe and Nell appeared to be laughing, with bows stuck to the tops of their heads. Alan and Jeremy were caught guiltily with their hands in the cookie jar. "Must have been a handful," he said conversationally. "All those kids."

"They were," he laughed. "You have no idea how much, kiddo. But worth every single second."

"So, the ladies went out and the men stay at home?"

"Well, there were some odd circumstances with the appointment," Alan replied. "Figured it best that just the girls went."

"Well, hopefully she finds what she's looking for. I don't get it; it's just a dress."

Alan laughed. "Oh, you've got lots of things to learn."

Callen grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and started going through the drawers for the paring knife that liked to remain elusive. He found it in a drawer, sitting on top of a file he needed to return to work. He stared at the cold case file for a second before grabbing the paring knife and shutting the drawer. Sometimes, you have to learn to let things go.

But most of the time they just come back to haunt you.

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, until the next one in series ;)


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